Maria's A Saint
by Cerulean PenFoil
Summary: Gillian wonders if life will never be as awesome as it was before this little surprise came along. Life is a countdown until her delivery.AU.Sequel to Nine Month Abstinence.AusxFem!Pru
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Okay, to begin with, I thank all those who enjoyed reading Nine Month Abstinence. Thank you for all your heartwarming and inspiring reviews and comments. I'm really happy you took the time to read my story and express your thoughts through reviews! So here's the sequel~

As usual, rated T for language and stuff...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia and its characters.

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><p>"Hey Roddy! Are you done yet? You've been in there for thirty minutes now. Do you know how tiring it is to stand here? Roddy! Roddy! What is wrong with you now?" Gillian stood outside the bathroom as she listened to her husband retch. It was pitiful, hearing him gasp and struggle to at least expel something from his system. Earlier she had been surprised to find him looking rather ill as he sat in the living room sofa with some sheet music clutched weakly in his hands.<p>

Wasn't she the one pregnant? Then why was Roderich clearly showing physical symptoms someone like her should be experiencing? The woman released a sigh as she heard the lock click and the door finally opened to reveal her husband's disheveled form. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. Lately, I've just felt-" "You don't have to explain. At least now you understand how much shit I go through." She allowed a smirk to grace her lips as Roderich groaned.

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><p>"I'm going out." Roderich blinked. Gillian shrugged at his silence and proceeded to rummage through her wardrobe. For a moment there, he almost looked <em>lost<em>. Gillian suppressed a smirk as she sensed her husband catch on. "You can't! what if you're exposed to teratogenic substances? There are a lot! We need to be careful, Gillian. We need to make sure the baby comes to no harm. You-" Roderich cut off as he felt another wave of nausea hit him. What was wrong with him today? He tried to comb his hair back into something more presentable as he watched his wife go through her drawers next.

"No need to be so paranoid, silly priss. I'm going to the doctor. I have a check-up scheduled today, or did you actually forget that?" sarcasm laced her voice as she pulled out a blouse. "I can take care of myself, Roderich. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get out." She flashed him one of those victorious grins of hers; and he resisted the urge to suddenly restrain her.

Three hours. Roderich patiently waited for _three_ hours, nursing his headache and the waves of nausea as he shut himself in the bathroom. Gillian was taking so long. Surely a pre-natal visit wouldn't take up an hour or more! He had reminded her several times in the past to come straight home whenever she went out. Usually he would accompany her, just to be on the safe side. Who knew what dangers lurked out there for pregnant women like her? He could only hope she would come home soon safe and sound, mood swings and all. And she did return home, a strange mixture of emotion crossing her face.

"H-how did it go, Gillian? I'm really sorry I couldn't accompany you for your pre-natal check-up today. It's just I-I-" Roderich stammered out his apology, the lightest of blushes dusting his cheeks. Gillian looked unimpressed. She settled down next to him and eyed the swell of her belly with disdain. "Perhaps I should have gone with you. I think I need a check-up as well."

"Nah, I told the doctor your problem. Nothing to worry about, Roddy. Doc said you're one of the many lucky husbands who have _couvade syndrome _or whatever it is. Congratulations. At least I can rest happy knowing I'm not the only one suffering for this entire pregnancy." Again with that sarcasm! Roderich shot her a perplexed look but did not respond, his head still spinning even with all the pills he had taken. Gillian only huffed at his situation, her eyes bearing no hint of sympathy at all, and that was what pained him more than the sick feeling in his body.

Couvade syndrome? It seemed familiar. He must have read it somewhere in one of those books he acquired recently the moment he learned of his wife's pregnancy. He was nearly startled out of his chair when he heard a soft thump and felt sudden warmth upon his lap. He glanced down to find Gillian's head nestled there, one of her hands playing with the hem of his shirt. "Gil?" He reached down to give her head a tentative stroke. Ever since they learned of her pregnancy Gillian had taken great measures to avoid all forms of intimacy. Her mood swings were horrible. It had pained him all throughout her first trimester when she would glare accusingly at him and scream at him to be as far away from her as possible. It was like their love had completely fallen apart.

Surely other pregnant women would not act so extremely, but Gillian was far from being an ordinary woman. He had endured it all in silence, getting so worked up about every little thing just to make her feel something akin to happiness, until he finally broke down to this-this stupid couvade syndrome. Gillian had a point. He was finally experiencing what she had suffered for her first few months.

"Gil," he tried again, wincing as she turned her head to flash him an annoyed glare. "Spit it out, priss." she replied, although there was no hostility in her tone. Her hand did not stop tugging and twirling the edges of his shirt. "Is there something wrong? You can talk to me about it, Gillian." "What makes you think there's something wrong? Seriously, I wonder what goes on in that head of yours nowadays, Roddy." Her voice softened considerably, her gaze lowering back to where she had been previously staring at emptiness. Roderich relaxed, a relieved sigh escaping his lips as he stroked her hair before responding, "You know you haven't been very touchy-feely lately. You shun me away and avoid touching me if possible. Why the sudden change now? I thought you finally…hated me." the last part was said in a whisper, but the hint of pain lingered there.

He forced a tiny smile upon his face as Gillian shifted to glance at him once more. "So you don't want me to be touchy-feely with you now?" Recognizing that change in her tone and the way she had strung her reply together made Roderich panic internally. "No! G-Gillian, I did not mean it that way. I meant that you've distanced yourself from me ever since we learned you're pregnant, and th-this is actually the first time you've-And I've missed you…" he trailed off, at a loss for words as he wondered if his wife would get up and leave in another angry huff (she seemed to do that a lot instead of simply hitting him like she used to. Maybe pregnancy worked wonders on her violent streak). He stiffened in surprise as he felt her wrap her arms around him instead.

"Don't get sentimental on me, Roddy. I just wanted a pillow and you're the only one available at the moment." Still, her words were spoken in a gentle manner that the man could not help but feel lighter, like a burden was cast out of his heart and mind. "Sure, I'll be your pillow." Best to humor her for a while and relish in this moment; he might not be able to get this kind of chance later on.

How many minutes had gone by, Roderich did not know. He did not care. His frustrations, his fears were ebbing away, replaced with that unexplainable fluffy feeling inside of him that was neither bad nor good. Gillian was quiet, her head nestled on his lap, her arms still around his waist. Her position however, seemed rather uncomfortable, seeing that her belly was more enlarged and swollen. He wondered if he should shift her into a better position. Withdrawing his hand from her head, he gently took hold of her shoulders and tried to move her. Gillian cracked one eye open, silently questioning what he was trying to do.

She did not understand why he was suddenly moving her away. To his utter shock and disappointment, Gillian pulled away from him entirely and sat up, leaning farther away, her expression unreadable as she stared him up and down. She must have misunderstood his actions! Roderich mentally face palmed himself. _Bad move_! He should have told her beforehand. But how could he convince her to lie back down and snuggle next to him without irritating her? It was all so frustrating!

Gillian sensed her husband's agitation. That mixed expression on his face meant there was a problem. If that was the case, he should attempt to solve it on his own. Whatever was troubling him was none of her business unless it concerned her again in one way or another. Didn't he usually let out his emotions through piano-playing?

Maybe now was the time he released all those bottled up feelings. Maybe that was the reason why he felt ill, he had not been playing the piano! Maybe for her sake he was suppressing himself? Sure, she was the only one allowed to hurt the priss but that didn't mean he could simply go about inflicting himself emotional harm; she wasn't a sadist! And anyway, she wasn't in the mood to toy with him. Not now. She had other things to think of more awesome than annoying her prissy husband.

"Hey Roddy," He perked up the moment she called out. "Yes?" Too agitated. That tone of his was grating on her nerves. "Play something for me." A pause. Roderich blinked once, twice. "Wh-what?" Maybe he didn't hear her correctly. Maybe he was imagining it. "You've gone deaf. Play for me, won't you?" A ghost of a smile flitted on the corners of Gillian's lips as her husband sputtered in bewilderment. Yep, he definitely needed his music therapy.

Roderich tilted his glasses back into its proper place as he tried to regain some self-control. Was she serious? She had threatened his piano last time, what if she'd change her mind the moment he played something? But as he met her gaze, there was no tinge of malice or treachery. Of course, Gillian's unpredictability had increased tenfold due to her pregnancy, but there was truly something sincere in her request, something that made it hard for him to be doubtful and defensive.

"What would you like?" He relaxed his shoulders, aware of how Gillian was practically staring at him. "Anything. Something awesome." A full-blown smirk was highlighting her face now, and he could not help but feel the spark of a challenge. "Are you sure?" "I'm sure, unless you want me to create music using your fine china tea set, I suggest you do what you usually do best with that damn piano of yours." He cringed inwardly at her threat, before smiling in acquiescence.

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><p>"Why'd you go and play <em>that<em>? You tasteless priss!" Only a few minutes after he had played one of Mozart's pieces, and now his wife was bawling in her seat like a child robbed of a dear toy. Truly, Roderich had no idea what triggered Gillian's emotions. Everything about her seemed unstable! "I'm going out, Roddy." "Wait, what? Where are you going?" "Too many questions, Rod! I'm paying West a visit. I bet he's more awesome than you are right now. You just made me cry unawesome tears due to your crappy piano playing!" With that said, she stormed out of the music room, leaving Roderich gaping at her in shock.

"Wait! At least let me accompany you there! The danger-" "Stop the melodrama, Roddy! It's not like I'm divorcing you." "Gillian Maria! Come back here! I'm not letting you leave this house unprepared and unprotected. Think of the baby's health! The outside world-" "You're not the fucking idiot who's pregnant! Stop making a fuss, I'm not going to die. You're not the one who goes for pre-natal check-ups and gets an earful of crappy advice on do's and don'ts. So leave me alone!"

'In the end, she left _me_ alone, but before she reaches her brother's house, I need to make an important call and instruct Ludwig on what to expect and what to do.' Roderich contemplated writing a list, bemoaning the headache that had returned full force. 'What is she planning anyway?'

It was a good thing Ludwig only lived a short distance away, if an hour-long walk could be considered short. By the time Gillian arrived on the doorstep she was breathing heavily, sweat trickling on her brow as she sought to bite back a pained groan. Damn, she definitely needed to exercise! Roderich had cooped her up in the house too much that her legs were losing its strength.

Another one of the reasons she hated this entire pregnancy business, it made her too weak, too vulnerable and helpless. She shuddered at her depressing train of thought before focusing back to the present. Hopefully, her little brother would treat her the same way. She didn't bother knocking, screaming at the top of her lungs always worked best.

"West! West! Open the door, it's your awesome schwester!" She yelled, a grin on her face as she waited impatiently. Several minutes passed, there seemed to be no movement within the house. Strange. Gillian knew her little brother's habits too well; he wouldn't be out of the house during this time of day. "West!" she tried once more, her impatience turning into mild annoyance.

Her legs hurt from standing still, her back a bit strained due to the added weight of a four-month pregnancy. She looked down to glare at her swollen belly, hissing a curse at it. "Stupid-I'd probably look like a cow in the next few months! This thing…why the fuck do you make me tired? Why the hell am I putting up with you?"

Finally fed up with standing for too long (and damn, her legs hurt so much now, she needed to relieve the tension by kicking West afterward), Gillian sat herself down and leaned against the door. She didn't care if people saw her, as long as she got to rest her aching legs the rest of the world could go to hell. They didn't know how unawesome it was to suffer in this way.

"West," she whined weakly, eyes blankly looking ahead as she lightly rocked herself back and forth, making sure not to hit her back against the door too hard. It was awkward with the growing lump in her belly; how in the world could a baby get so big within her? Or perhaps it was just the extra serving of salad she had earlier. Salad…when did she ever take a liking to _salad_? Did the growing fetus within her crave salad? Okay, her mind was trailing away into a pointless oblivion, lost in a daydream. And daydreams gave her awesome ideas to keep her sane; one such awesome idea entered her head. She grinned. She'd have her fun.

It was hard to find that one special rock that beat all other rocks in its awesomeness. The curve, the color…it was perfect for the job. Gillian grinned as she scrutinized every detail of the rock in her hand before testing its weight. _Perfect. _Since she was bored with nothing better to do than wait for the stupid door to be opened, now was the best opportunity to try her dormant skills. If this wouldn't get her uptight little brother out of his house, she wondered what else would. Unless he truly wasn't at home. Positioning herself a short distance away from her target, she took a deep breath, mentally checking off the pros and cons of doing this. Oh well, this would be a great way of stress relief. That window reminded her of her husband's glasses. All of her second thoughts flew out of her head the same time she hurled that perfect rock holding all her stress into Ludwig's kitchen window.

The resounding crash was music to her ears. If only she could hear a better crash than that! Something resounding, like a piano breaking to pieces. Ah, but that was too much work. The sound of glass shattering was much more pretty right now, the rock hitting something else inside the house. The satisfied smirk on Gillian's face widened into a grin as a shocked yelp resounded from within. The sound of footsteps rushing towards the front door…she ambled towards it, intent on meeting her little brother who would most likely be as furious as a raging bull now that his kitchen window was nothing but a broken mess. Perhaps her perfect rock had hit him on the head as well?

The door swung open as Ludwig stepped out with a cry of outrage, only to stop his murderous threats at the sight of his sister grinning at him. "If only I knew that throwing rocks at your windows would get you out soon enough, I'd have done it half an hour ago." the grin disappeared, replaced with a scowl, and this time it was her turn to scream bloody murder.

"Please don't tell me you've gone deaf, stupid brother! I've been yelling my throat raw endlessly, and where were you? Asleep? Or in the bathroom? Or maybe-"

She put a hand over her heart in mock horror, "were you watching porn, West?" Ludwig didn't know what to make of his older sister's mood swings, unpredictable as the rant she was currently having.

His anger dissipated slightly to be replaced by an embarrassed blush as his sister mentioned- "Schwester! I-it's not _that_! I-I was occupied with something at the moment and didn't hear you-" "Because you had the volume turned up so loud in your room you didn't hear the awesome me, is that it?" "No! It's not-I wasn't watching-ugh, I was talking with someone on the phone!" The conversation was taking an awkward turn for him already!

Gillian stopped her teasing immediately, a look of realization on her face. "Oh, a phone call. From who? Your Italian girlfriend?" "No, your Austrian husband." At this, Ludwig actually noticed the color drain from his sister's face. Her eyes widened slightly in mild surprise, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly. He wondered if she was alright, he should invite her in already!

Just as he was about to open the door wider for her, she turned on her heel and walked away as fast as she could. "Wait, schwester! Where are you going? Didn't you come here for something?" His sister stopped in her tracks to flash him a pout, "Ja, I came here to escape, West, but I guess your place is not safe either." "Safe? Safe from what? Gillian, it's getting late. Come inside." "Nein. I'm going somewhere far away, nice and safe for a while." His patience was running thin now; he had delayed giving his sister a scolding for breaking his window, but his sister had come here for a reason only to leave the moment he was actually letting her in.

He was getting confused, his sister was responding rather vaguely and he didn't have enough time to deal with it. Leaving the door open, he rushed out after her, catching up easily and pulling her back by the wrist. The glare he received made him let go quickly and break eye contact. He could tell his sister was pissed. And he had no idea why.

"Gil, I don't understand," he murmured, feeling a bit self-conscious now. Right now he felt so small; the way Gillian was glaring daggers at him made him feel like a criminal. "I don't understand why you're suddenly pissed off, schwester. At least tell me why you're suddenly going away again." He met her gaze this time, steeling himself for whatever Gillian was going to say. A sigh escaped her lips instead.

"You were on the phone with Roderich." "Ja, and? Just because I was on the phone with him you want to go someplace else?" "Silly West. I want to get away from Roddy's unawesome clutches for a while, not that I hate him to the point of divorce or anything, I just want to get away from his nagging. Seriously, he's more like the fucking wife in our marriage, if you know what I mean." She gave her brother a weary smile. "And if I don't know any better, I'm sure that call would be a fucking list of instructions on how to 'Make sure the baby and Gillian are healthy, happy and safe'. That's what I want to escape from, West. Just for a day or two." Ouch. She had hit the mark on that one!

Before Gillian could turn away again, Ludwig had taken hold of her wrist once more. "But Roderich is right, Gil. You need to ensure your baby's healthy, happy and safe. I think it was right of him to tell me-" "And I think it's wrong for me to impose on you, bruder. Seriously, I'm sorry I broke your window for nothing. I'll be on my way then, ja?" she grinned at him before attempting to yank her wrist out of his grip. "Nein, stay here, Gillian. Night has fallen, I can't let you wander off aimlessly just because you want to avoid Roderich." Ignoring her protests and mild threats, he dragged her back to his house.

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><p>"I don't know who I hate more tonight. It's either you or the priss. And don't fucking treat me like some helpless damsel or I'll break your dishes next!" "Sure, sure. You can complain about how much you hate me tonight, schwester, but only after you clean up the mess you made of my window. See? I'm not treating you like some helpless damsel now, do I?"<p>

"No West, you're fucking heartless." "Only for a day or two." The siblings shared a grin.

"Ugh, stop it. Happy as I am to know that you still have a some weird sense of humor, I'm not in the mood to be the recipient of it. I can still kick your ass." "I can kick you out of the house." A short pause as the elder mulled over the words. She turned back to the younger with a grin, "Then kick me out already! I want to go someplace else, remember?" This time, it was the younger who took a short pause, his expression unreadable, his gaze lingering on the shattered remains of his window. "Nah, stay. You still need to clean that mess." "It was your fault you didn't open the damn door right away!"

The night was still young, and life seemed normal, almost back to what it once was. Gillian punched Ludwig in the arm as she accepted the broom he proffered to her. They drifted off into silence, the only sounds in the kitchen were the swishing of the broom, the clinking of broken glass, and Ludwig preparing dinner.

"Hey West, I may be a bit unawesome for noticing it just now, but did my perfect rock actually hit you on the head?"

A pause. A glare. A sigh.

"Ja, it did." "_Awesome_! I don't have to kick your ass anymore! My perfect rock has avenged me. W-wait, what are you going to do with my perfect rock? W-West?"

It was safe to say things were going smoothly, and all seemed normal in the Beilschmidt household…well, only for a day or two.

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><p><strong>AN: **First chapter's done! I think I messed up on this one...Anyway, please review! If ever I made any mistakes, please feel free to correct me. Updates for this story will be slow due to the following reasons: One, I have a busy schedule and barely have time to write since I have a lot of other things to do. Two, I don't have a stable internet connection right now; I often have to go to my friend's apartment just to leech off her internet.

I really hope you bear with me! Please don't forget to review and tell me what you think. I get easily inspired that way.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Here's the next chapter! Sorry for updating really late.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing related to Hetalia.

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><p>The house was quiet and peaceful without Gillian. Roderich was unsure whether to be happy with that fact or not.<p>

He could take a break from her constant complaining and screaming. On the other hand, he missed her presence. She brought warmth and life in the home, in his heart.

Setting his thoughts of her aside, he tried to focus on other things, like playing his piano and composing pieces that his wife _might_ like. He was still sore over the reason why Gillian fled the house after he played her one such piano piece. He truly had no idea it would make her cry!

Nowadays he was careful with her feelings, so very easily crushed by words or actions. Before her pregnancy she could take any and every insult thrown at her, and come up with a better one in retaliation.

She was pregnant now, he had to keep that in mind; the doctor did advise him to choose his words wisely and to be considerate. Sure he had broken the first rule, but he had kept the second faithfully.

He was considerate enough to give her space. He allowed her to run back to her brother's house! Speaking of her brother, Roderich needed to call Ludwig again to check if Gillian was doing well under his care.

While the bespectacled pianist wondered over the welfare of his wife away from home, he absolutely had no idea how splendidly life was faring for the Beilschmidt siblings.

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><p>"Gillian, you're being childish!" "No I'm not, and I don't wanna get older! I wanna stay young and awesome, now let go!" "Gillian, I swear you'll break something again!" "It's gonna be your fault for not letting go!"<p>

Both siblings were locked in a heated glaring contest, neither relinquishing hold of a huge stuffed panda bear.

"Let go or I'm calling Roderich and telling him you're being such a spoiled brat."

"Coward."

Ludwig heaved a sigh. His sister could be quite a force to be reckoned with, and to think that this was only the beginning…

When the first rays of the sun were still peeking over the horizon, Ludwig had awoken to a horrible crash in his sister's room and had jumped out of bed to investigate. He was shocked to find his sister wide awake and cackling wildly as she whirled around the room with the stuffed panda bear she must have dug out of the closet.

At first he was surprised at how early she had awoken; she always slept in until nine in the morning and even then she would be in a hellish mood if disturbed, but right now she was awake even before the sun had fully risen in the sky.

As for her weird behavior with a stuffed toy, it was nothing but a common occurrence, but Ludwig had to make sure things were under control.

She could lose her balance and trip, and that would be bad for the baby. Or, she could lose her balance, trip and break something, and that would be bad for _him_. Remembering his broken window, he decided that while his sister was around, all things breakable in his house were at risk. Somehow her accident prone tendencies had increased during her pregnancy.

His sister could find something _less _risky to do while staying over.

Which led to an hour of deadly tug-of-war between both of them, neither relinquishing hold of the poor stuffed toy being pulled here and there. Gillian snarled at him from her precarious perch atop her bed, the sheets pooled around her feet as she gave a fierce tug. Ludwig kept his deadpan expression although he worried internally if his sister might slip and fall.

Why was everything so risky when it came to her? Why did he have to entertain her in the most ridiculous manner possible? Why did she still have to be so immature? What had he done to deserve _this_?

He tightened his grip on the toy and tried to pry Gillian's fingers off. He didn't expect her to retaliate by biting his hand instead. He withdrew with a startled yelp, finally releasing the stuffed panda. Their little war ended in Gillian's victory as she held the toy above her head like a trophy, grinning at him as he nursed his hand, the bite marks visibly red and tender. He hissed a curse and lunged for the toy once again. He knew she was stubborn and hell-bent to have things her way, but then again maybe his sister must have forgotten that he was just as stubborn.

Only when the phone rang did both stop their struggle and simultaneously drop the abused panda on Gillian's bed. They shared a look; Gillian's gaze was accusing, Ludwig's stare was clueless.

"Must be my darling husband calling to see if we haven't murdered each other yet," she muttered, tangling her fingers in her long silvery hair as she hopped off the bed carefully, a lazy smile ghosting on her lips. "I'm gonna shower first, obviously that phone call's for you."

"Fine, don't take too long. If it's Roderich on the phone he might ask for you," Ludwig murmured in reply, rolling his eyes as Gillian mouthed good luck, her own eyes gleaming in amusement.

Roderich bit his lower lip as he waited. 'Pick up, please.' His mind whirling with all the possibilities of mishaps and accidents. He had no idea why he was suddenly nervous. Maybe because Ludwig might greet him with a long list of damaged furniture he would have to pay off due to Gillian's recklessness? His heart skipped a beat as someone finally picked up the phone, and his voice did not just _squeak_ as he heard Ludwig's deep baritone over the receiver!

Recomposing himself, Roderich evened out his tone and went straight to the point before the other could make a comment. "Did Gillian cause you trouble?" "She broke one of my windows." Okay. So something really did happen. Roderich tried to recall the contents of his wallet at the moment, until Ludwig's voice broke him out of his mental calculations, just as if he could read minds, "You don't have to pay for it, Roderich. Gilllian took care of it."

Huh? _Gillian_? Take responsibility for her actions? If he recalled correctly, his wife didn't even bring spare change with her when she left. How did she pay for it then?

"Roderich, are you still there? Was that all you wanted to ask?"

"Huh? Oh no, I-I mean, I'm sorry my wife is being a burden to you, Ludwig. if there's anything I can do to make up for it-"

"Everything's under control. She's my schwester, I'm used to it."

" But still…! So where is she?"

"In the shower."

"Oh. Please don't hesitate to call me if she does something troublesome, okay?"

'She already has, and the day hasn't officially begun yet.' Ludwig thought to himself as he tuned out the rest of Roderich's ramblings; Gillian finally done with her shower, her hair glistening wet as she came into view with a towel wrapped around her body. She tiptoed closer until she was practically dripping on him and he tried to shoo her away. Go and change, he mouthed as she grinned at him.

"…Ludwig,"

"Yes? Anything else, Roderich?"

"No, I was wondering and, uhh…I'll wait until she's finished with her shower. I'd like to speak with her, if that's okay."

'Good timing. She's done.' Without another word, the younger Beilschmidt instantly thrust the phone into the elder's hands before heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

"This is the awesome me speaking," "Gillian!" "Good morning to you too, Roddy. You called early! It's not even eight in the morning yet." she crooned over the phone, a teasing smile on her lips, a bit disappointed that her husband could not see it.

"Gillian, please do not cause trouble for your brother," came the plea. "Oh don't worry, West loves me so much he's practically immune to whatever trouble I cause. He needs a bit of action and suspense in his life too, you know, ever since you whisked me away to your evil lair and played the hypnotic piano of doom, life in this house must have been lonely for my little brother! You're to blame, Roddy!" she accused, the teasing lilt in her tone making Roderich sigh.

"As long as you don't give me a reason to drag you back here, please behave."

"I'm not your kid, I'm your wife."

"Yes, and you're supposed to be here, not there."

"You're not supposed to be as whiney as I am. You know why I left. I need a breath of fresh air…and some wurst, I can smell breakfast!"

Sensing that his wife was already distracted by the prospect of a meal, Roderich murmured "Okay, Gil. Take care," in which he earned a chuckle from his wife. "Don't miss me too much, priss." Gillian sighed before she hung up, leaving Roderich to mull over their conversation, a small smile spreading over his lips as he heaved a sigh of relief.

Yes, maybe he shouldn't miss her so much as long as she was doing fine. She seemed to be in a better mood so maybe being at Ludwig's house did some wonders to her mood, or maybe her brother just knew how to deal with her.

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><p>"Aren't you being a little cold to him? He is your husband, both of you should settle your problems together, not run away and avoid seeing each other. Please think things over, schwester. That's not the way a married couple should treat each other."<p>

"And are _you_ fucking married, West? Read one more of those fucking romance novels your pretty airhead of a girlfriend leaves behind and one of these days I sure as hell am gonna raid your closet and cause a scandal. You know what I mean, and I'm serious about it. You may be an adult now, but that doesn't make you a fucking expert on married life. Don't try to tell me what to do." The tone in Gillian's voice clearly betrayed her increasing irritation at the topic of conversation. However, Ludwig was determined to drive his point home.

"I'm just saying-"

"You're saying I'm wrong in doing this," she cut off with a sneer as she dumped her empty plate in the sink before turning back to face her brother with a challenging glare.

"No, I-well, yes but I think it's time you end this little war you're having with your husband over this pregnancy issue, don't you think it would happen sooner or later?" There was a pause, Gillian clenching her fists as she leaned against the kitchen sink. Ludwig sighed as he waited for a reply.

Why did his sister have to be so stubborn at a time like this? Gillian was trying to rebel, chafing against a sudden responsibility pushed into her life. She was dealing with her problem the wrong way and making it worse in the process. She was threatening the love and security of her married life with Roderich.

"I made it perfectly clear. If we wanted to have a kid, it would be later, but this thing," she said, patting her stomach. To her right now, it looked so big and rounded when it was still just a small lump. Her belly wasn't even protruding so much yet. Maybe she was hallucinating already?

"This isn't what I wanted at the moment. You'll think I'm being unreasonable and idealistic, but what would you do if someone suddenly banned you from the things you deemed most precious in the world?" By the odd lilt in her voice, Ludwig knew the root of the entire mess started with the beer abstinence.

His sister was too proud and too egotistic for her own good, and she almost always never owned up to her mistakes. But this was too much; not having beer for several months doesn't mean she could hate both her husband and her unborn child!

"You mean to say that the only reason being pregnant is a life-threatening problem to you is because you can't have beer, you can't go anywhere without supervision and your diet has been strictly limited; you're being too selfish, and you know Roderich's only doing what he deems best for you." There was a tense silence between them, and Ludwig felt a tinge of guilt creep up his spine as he saw the way Gillian's shoulders tensed, her eyes now glaring hard at the floor.

Finally she looked up, a flash of hurt in those eyes as her lips quivered, "I thought you could comfort me and make me forget what I have become. Things have changed, things which I did not wish for. Everything happens so quickly it's unawesome; I thought you would have understood me. I was wrong." her last words were spoken in a whisper as she brushed past a stunned Ludwig.

What could he do now when he only aggravated the situation further? Ludwig resisted the urge to slam his head against the nearest wall. What could he do now? If his sister was deliberately making life miserable as a form of rebellion, he knew he stood little chance of changing her mind, especially right now when a part of her fear was unwittingly exposed, right when she felt her pride threatened. Maybe trying to help Gillian and Roderich wasn't a smart move. And for that Ludwig knew his sister was right, what the hell did _he_ know about married life with its turbulent ups and downs?

The rest of the day drifted by quickly although a dark and heavy cloud hung over the Beilschmidt residence. Ludwig knew something must be done to appease his sister. The last time they had gotten into some form of a cold war was when Gillian wanted to keep an entire roost of fluffy yellow chicks in the house, and Ludwig vehemently protested. The elder sulked for half a month and refused to acknowledge the younger even when he broke her bedroom door down just to elicit a reaction from her. In the end, he let her keep one chick in her room, and even by presenting the peace offering it took two days for her to finally get over it and accept him as her younger brother once more. But this current situation was something worse than that, and this time her enemy was her own husband.

When she didn't leave her room for dinner Ludwig began to worry. Maybe he went overboard in trying to talk some sense into her. As he stood hesitantly in front of her bedroom door he prepared himself for whatever reaction she would greet him with.

Perhaps she would be violent and throw furniture at him, or maybe she would yell and curse until the whole neighborhood would hear. Or maybe, just maybe and he hoped it wouldn't be the case, that she would be silent and sulky.

"Gillian," he murmured loud enough for her to hear him.

No response.

He tried again. "I brought you dinner," He held his breath. One, two, five seconds before he heard a muffled growl and a thump of a body hitting the floor. He stiffened as the door swung open revealing Gillian with puffy red eyes and disheveled hair greet him with a snarl. He kept his mouth clamped shut as she warily eyed the meal he brought her.

When she made no move to take it, he hesitantly offered it to her as a small wave of guilt washed over his features and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled as Gillian merely raised an eyebrow at his gesture.

"Please, just take it-"

"Come inside. I don't want to see you stand before me like an abused puppy." An amused smile ghosted over her lips for second before she gestured for him to follow her inside her dark and messy room. Ludwig breathed a sigh of relief; his peace offering worked!

"If ever you decide to propose to that sweet lover of yours, and the moment she says yes, and both of you plan the wedding make sure of one very important thing,"

"What would it be?"

"Make sure you're prepared to be tied down to that one girl for the entirety of your life physically, mentally and emotionally. If you aren't prepared for life in matrimony then don't bother proposing at all, you understand?"

Gillian watched as Ludwig struggled to come up with a response. "Er, your point is?" he finally managed to utter. Gillian wanted to slap herself right then and there.

Seriously, West was a bit slow nowadays, and maybe it had something to do with spending so much time with his Italian sweetheart. That chick was rubbing off on him both positively and negatively.

"Don't make the same mistake I did, West. It's one of the most unawesome mistakes I've committed in my awesome life."

"Oh? Which was the most unawesome mistake?"

"Falling in love with the priss I vowed to hate."

Gillian snuggled into the covers, her head nestled on her brother's lap as he sat at the edge of the bed.

"I thought I could hate him forever. Turns out I was slowly being drawn into his net of fanciful prissiness. Next thing I knew, I'm wearing the gold band around my finger and I'm now fucking _Mrs. Edelstein_! I just about lost a third of my awesomeness in that manner. And now," she sighed heavily, "And now I'm having a baby I'm not prepared to love and care for. I don't know what the hell I'm going to do with my life, if you can still call it that."

"Why are you feeling so insecure? What happened to the Gillian who could take on every problem that came her way? What happened to the Gillian who feared nothing?" Ludwig asked mockingly, hoping to boost some of his sister's already huge ego in an attempt to drive away her depression. It usually worked and his sister would perk up to meet his challenge. Then it would be back to normal. He truly did not expect her to answer him in a manner different from what he imagined.

"That was the awesome Gillian Maria Beilschmidt. I'm no longer that anymore, Ludwig, and I'm afraid that as every month passes by, I lose my original awesome self. I'm losing who and what I am."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Please review and tell me what you think. Honestly I feel Gillian's being rather OOC here, and too emotional as well. The next chapter will resolve her problems, I think. And hopefully, she'll be able to move on and be her normal self.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: I am truly sorry for the delay in posting. This is the only week that I'm having a stable internet connection. This chapter was actually finished weeks ago but I couldn't post it sooner. I am really sorry for not having permanent internet!

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><p>"Why don't you simply forgive Roderich? He's your husband, and you admitted it; you love him, so why can't you just accept that your situation is part of being married to him?"<p>

Ludwig sighed in exasperation at the blank stare he was receiving from Gillian. "Don't you think it would be more painful if you got pregnant with someone else's child? How would Roderich feel? At least he does his best and cares too much for your sake."

"What's with all this wisdom spouting out of your mouth? Did you actually research all this beforehand? West, sometimes you say the most unawesome things," Gillian replied, a childish pout on her lips as she playfully punched Ludwig's arm.

"But then, maybe you're right. The awesome me shouldn't blame the unawesome Roderich for poor timing. That's why I tell you, West, plan ahead!"

"Why am I suddenly being dragged into this?"

When morning finally came, Gillian was up and about in a far lighter mood than the previous day. Ludwig was quite surprised when she volunteered to make breakfast. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes and a devilish grin that warned him that Gillian was plotting. Something insane and immature, possibly.

This sudden change in behavior, from downright depressing to eerily normal plagued Ludwig's mind until he could hold it in no longer. In between bites, he managed to bring it up to Gillian. "I don't like that look on your face, schwester. I hope you're not going to do something stupid. Remember what I said-"

"I remember what you said. And no, I'm just fucking happy today, okay? What I'm planning will be the epitome of awesome!" came Gillian's cheery reply.

As the elder glanced at the younger, she noticed the doubt in the other and cackled in delight, "I'm going back to Roddy. I'm forgiving the priss for the crime he unintentionally committed. I've finally come to the conclusion that it's not worth feeling so unawesome all this time. What's happened has happened, and the awesome me has to adapt to change! So don't look at me like that, West."

Ludwig visibly relaxed at those words and forced a tiny smile. "Well now, that's the Gillian I know. Then, I'm glad you're back to your 'awesome' self."

"Yeah, I'm going to hold on to my awesomeness no matter what!"

* * *

><p>"I'm glad you've decided to come back home." "And I'm glad to see you haven't changed one bit. It's like you've been partying in my absence."<p>

"That's not true! I-"

"Don't say it! I won't have you getting mushy on me. I had fun with West, but I think it would be really unawesome of me to leave you indefinitely, so I just had to come back."

"I'm sorry if I annoyed you or offended you in any way."

"And I forgive you for being the only annoying, offensive person I can stand to live with. Even if it feels a bit unawesome to say this, Roderich, I don't hate you. If I did, I wouldn't have married you in the first place."

Gillian paused, looking straight into her husband's eyes as she tried to read his reaction. A kind smile slowly formed on Roderich's lips as he closed the distance between them and embraced her.

"I love you too, Gillian." came the softest of whispers as Roderich's lips brushed against Gillian's ear.

The pianist stumbled back in surprise when Gillian gave a gentle shove. "Didn't I tell you to stop being so mushy?" she muttered, though there was no trace of hostility in her voice, and her eyes betrayed whatever mischief she was planning.

"Would you rather I be the snobbish, arrogant bastard when we first met?" "Hmm, perhaps. I'd rather much appreciate it if you remain simply as Roderich Edelstein. I married such a man after all, not some poor sap who thinks being too clingy and overprotective of his wife is a virtue. I ask you as well," Gillian murmured as she tugged Roderich back to her side. "Would you take me and love me as I am, the awesome Gillian Maria Beilschmidt? Would you accept the awesome me no matter what?"

Roderich stared deeply into her eyes, and she waited. "I love you for who you are, Gillian. Awesome or not." he leaned down to catch her lips in a brief kiss before pulling away, a little cautious in case she rejected him with a punch. He was surprised when she didn't react.

"Wow, that's one awkward way to renew vows or something!" Gillian exclaimed as Roderich fumbled beside her, a blush staining his cheeks. "Ugh, forget it! I encouraged the mushiness to happen. Do you have some mushroom soup? I'm kinda in the mood for one!"

Without waiting for her a response, she promptly made her way towards the kitchen, but not before taking hold of her husband and half-dragging him along with her. "Come, come, Roddy! We don't have all day, and I want some awesome mushroom soup!"

* * *

><p>"I am <em>so<em> sorry! I never meant to poison you with the soup! I-I-" Roderich stuttered as he wrung his hands with worry. The anxious look he sent Gillian's way was becoming really unnerving. The latter lay on her bed with the blankets up to her chin as she groaned weakly.

"Don't be sorry. The soup was delicious, Roddy. This headache isn't your fault though. I do recall the doctor saying a headache or two is bound to happen. I'll worry about it if it occurs in late pregnancy or something. Anyway," she struggled to sit up despite the pounding in her head and forced a reassuring smile on her lips. "Don't beat yourself up over this headache. Just make me more of that soup and I'll be happy."

Roderich cast her a doubtful stare but immediately left to do as she requested. If making her some more of that soup would make her feel better, and if she was truly telling the truth about her condition, then he might as well just acquiesce to her request.

Now alone in the room, Gillian sighed as she tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position. Why did it turn out like this all of a sudden? She was about to enjoy the moment and a decent meal with Roderich when her headache decided to settle in. Roderich overreacting to her condition spoiled the rest of what little contentment she had. She wondered if she could trade places with her husband for a day; he would certainly fit the role of a pregnant wife better than she ever could!

Gillian was mildly surprised when he came back a few minutes later with a steaming bowl of mushroom soup. She propped herself up on her elbows with a curious expression as he rushed to her bedside. "Here, it's still hot." "Roderich, stop worrying. You're making me feel like I'm dying. The awesome me just has a really bad headache not some terminal illness. Don't look at me with eyes like that," she muttered sulkily just as her husband was lifting the spoon to her mouth. "And don't baby me. I can take care of myself." she added; taking hold of the bowl and wrestling the spoon out of Roderich's grip.

As an afterthought she leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'd rather have a haughty and prissy snob than the self-pitying cry-baby I'm speaking to right now. Cheer up Roddy, my headache will pass, and if it means so much to you, I'll give you a worthy headache when I'm better."

Her words seemed to have triggered a reaction deep within the pianist, and he jerked back with a look of horror etched upon his face. "I'd rather not, Gillian Maria! I'm very sure _my_ headache might as well be ten times worse than yours if you're going to be inducing them." he exclaimed, scooting away from his wife. Gillian flashed him a victorious grin although it was a bit shaken by the pain in her head. "That only makes me want to mess with you more."

"Come now, look! The soup's getting cold." Roderich exclaimed hurriedly, wanting to draw away from the current subject as it was growing more uncomfortably against his favor. If he did not distract his wife, she would surely exact havoc later on. Gillian readily turned her attention back to the bowl of unfinished soup, a contented smirk on her lips as Roderich steadied her into a better sitting position.

"After this I want you to rest. You've had enough excitement for today and I don't want you to tire yourself out."

"One more word from you, Roderich Edelstein and I'm going to dump the rest of this soup on your head. I'm not a child, I'm pregnant and a lot of weird stuff happens during pregnancy which you should consider normal by now. If there's anything wrong I would know, and I'd give you fair warning so don't nag or whine at me!"

* * *

><p>"Where are you going?" Gillian queried as she noticed Roderich put on a coat. He only flashed her a smile. Curiosity increasing tenfold, Gillian shot up from her place on the couch, leaving the book she was perusing.<p>

It had been a while since her headache had mellowed down into nothing, so she had moved around the house searching for things to do until she settled down reading books. She was mildly surprised to find her husband all dressed up in what she believed were formal clothes. Was he playing in a concert this afternoon? Quickly closing the distance between them, she tugged at his sleeve until he whirled around to face her.

"Oh, I'm going to buy some groceries. I think we need to stock up again. If you're feeling up to it, you can accompany me to the store. Maybe we can do a little bit of shopping for our little bundle of joy's things too." Roderich explained simply, hoping the glare she was aiming at him would dissipate.

"What 'bundle of joy' are you talking about? Try spending a few weeks feeling really crappy, then I'll show you joy," came the sarcastic reply.

"I bet you just want me to be around you so you can keep an eye on me. Leaving me alone in the house poses a lot of risks for you right now, eh? Or better yet, you want _me _to keep an eye on you so you won't get lost. Again. Let's face it, Roderich, you believe I'm accident-prone, I believe you have no sense of direction. Anyway, I'm feeling kind today so I'll come with you _only_ for grocery-shopping. I think it's too early to be buying baby stuff; you're being over-excited."

"But aren't you excited? We're going to be parents soon so we need to prepare for the baby's arrival. Time flies by really quick, so we better be ready!"

"What I'm only going to be excited preparing about is the fact that after my pregnancy, I'm going to drink nine months' worth of beer! How many kegs do you think that would be?"

Roderich frowned at his wife as she finished tying her hair up in a ponytail. "Gillian, even after you've delivered the child, you still cannot drink any alcohol." Gillian froze on the front step as he locked the door. "What are you saying?"

"Babies need breast milk for up to two years. Formula won't help their immune system, and it is a crucial time for them to grow so they absolutely need all the breast milk they can get."

He stifled a gasp as Gillian forcefully yanked him by the collar and drew him close. "So you're saying that I need to wait for another two years? Want me to die an early death? Or would _you_ rather die before I do, because I sure as hell am getting my beer after I deliver this baby! I'm not waiting for another fucking two years! Nine months already feels like a fucking decade! Find a wet nurse for the baby; I understand what you're saying about the entire 'alcohol may kill the baby' but I'm still having my beer. "

She let him go and stomped off, leaving Roderich stunned speechless. "You can go shopping by yourself for all I care! And if you get lost I still won't care! I'm taking a walk _far_ away from you!"

Gillian had long since disappeared from view the moment Roderich finally regained his composure. Snapping out of his long train of thought he scanned the area and hoped his wife was just hiding in some corner sulking like a child.

The idea seemed to grow more preposterous with each step he took though, and it wasn't long before the pianist found himself in front of his car. With a sigh he could only hope that his wife would cool down and return home before dark.

"It's so hard dealing with her mood swings nowadays. I wonder how her brother handles it. She's such a child!" he muttered to himself as he drove away in the direction of the nearest shopping center. He'd go and buy the baby's stuff by himself before buying the groceries they needed.

* * *

><p>The sky had grown dark and the stars were twinkling overhead. Gillian trudged down the path and saw a payphone. 'Stupid Roddy can get lost for all I care!' She stopped in front of the payphone and thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans in the vain hope of having some spare change.<p>

'Stupid Roddy. Not only does he limit my freedom, he even limits my money! Idiot. Stupid priss even had the nerve to call my boss and demand that I be given pregnancy leave. And I was about to receive a raise the following week too! Damn you, priss, I really hope you get lost and never be found!' With a pout on her lips she huffed sulkily, a small wave of relief washing over her as she counted some coins. It was indeed a good thing to leave change in pants pockets. Who knew they'd be quite useful during emergencies like these?

A lazy grin replaced the pout as she heard the satisfying clink of the coins going in the machine. If she was lucky someone would pick up the damn phone. 'You better be home, jerk because I'm crashing your place tonight, like it or not.'

She screamed a delighted greeting the moment someone picked up the phone on the other end. "Can I order a vegetarian paella? I'll pay you with my awesomeness! I'm coming over to brighten your empty house with my awesome glory. Oh yeah, call Frenchie, he needs to bask in my awesomeness too!"

And somewhere far away, Roderich suppressed a shiver. 'Why do I feel like something terrible is going to happen? And come to think of it, this looks like the same building I passed by ten minutes ago…'

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: There! I hope you guys liked it. I'll post the next chapter soon enough although I have to warn you that probably after this week updates will be few and far between. Stupid internet. Thank you to all those who have put up with me. I'm sorry for the wait. Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Thank you to all those who added thsi story to their favorite/story alert list. I hope I don't disappoint.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I had to post this up as soon as possible. I don't know if this chapter is short or long enough to appease. At least now I have finally introduced one of the first BFT moments.

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><p>"So tell me, what makes this situation an emergency? I was enjoying a date with this really pretty lady when Antonio called." Francis murmured as nonchalantly as possible as he reclined on the sofa. Sitting on the armchair across him was Gillian with a bowl of fresh tomatoes on her lap.<p>

"This situation is an emergency because the awesome me cannot stand my unawesome husband anymore!" Gillian wailed, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes as she viciously bit into a tomato. Francis resisted the urge to flinch at her violent way of eating. He felt glad to be sitting a bit far from her at the moment. Whatever Roderich had said or done must have affected his friend so badly that she was adamant to sleep over at a friend's house.

"What did Roderich do to make you so mad? Come, come, tell big brother here so he can give you a hug," Francis crooned as he tried to distract Gillian from her messy destruction of tomatoes. He shrunk back into the sofa as the woman shot him a dark glare, tomato juice dripping down the sides of her mouth. Was she trying to scare him to death in this manner? He truly was concerned over her, but what did he say to deserve such a reaction?

"You're not my big brother, and I'm not accepting hugs, _especially_ from you!" she spat. Francis was on guard now, ready to bolt if she would assault him either with a tomato or with a fist.

"Francis, you're a man. A _pervy_ man, but still a good one. You're single, and I don't know if that should be a good or a bad thing, but as a man, you know there are some things you should never say to a woman."

'You're hardly the typical kind of woman,' Francis thought grimly as she continued her tirade. If he spoke his thoughts aloud to her, he might as well get emasculated. No way was he risking himself in such a manner. One wrong word from his lips and he would die.

It was rare for her to be this angry but he had been her friend long enough to know she had a violent streak within her. So he could only entertain her and lend a sympathetic ear to whatever was troubling her. He prided himself an expert in relationships and in all the ways of love, but to comfort someone like Gillian would be pushing the limit. "What did Roderich tell you?" he asked, forcing a smile on his face to mask the fact that he was more frightened than ever.

Gillian shrugged and pouted childishly. She looked at the now empty bowl and sighed. "I don't understand Roderich anymore," she mumbled sulkily, her glare softening into a wistful look. "I understand that he's happy to finally be a father soon, but," she paused and swiped at her tears before continuing, "but sometimes I wonder if all he cared about is the growing child within me, and not me. It's not like I have actually gone and taken all those risks! I'm suffering here, and he seems to disregard that fact! And I hate that he's too overprotective and caring because he's just trying to make me forget myself."

Francis processed her words and frowned. She wasn't making sense, in his opinion. Any other woman would be happy to know that their husband loved and cared for her, but Gillian was resisting. It was confusing and yet intriguing. "What do you mean that he's trying to make you forget yourself?"

The sulking woman glared once more and tensed. "Who and what was I before I got married? I was the awesome Gillian Beilschmidt! I enjoyed autonomy, I got what I wanted when I wanted and no one limited my needs or took control of my possessions. Now Roderich wants me to stay at home and do…womanly things! You know I'm not like that, I was never like that and never will! How would you feel, Francis, if someone did everything to stop you from being the perverted bastard that you are? If someone caged you inside a house under the guise of knowing what's best for you?"

"I'm not a pervert, I just wish to spread the power of amour! Now you have a point, but aren't you merely overreacting because you've never experienced being showered with so much love and affection? I mean, you've always detached yourself, you're always self-sufficient. Don't you think maybe it's you who should try to accept the fact that you're no longer alone and someone loves you enough to look out for your well-being? I'm not taking any sides here, Gil, I'm merely saying that maybe you haven't thought much about his true intentions."

There was a heavy pause, Gillian mulling over his words with an unreadable expression. Francis sighed and got up from his seat to go over her side. "Mon ami, maybe I you're not overreacting to things, you're over-thinking them. Come, I think Antonio's paella is waiting for you, and I need some wine too."

"That's just it, Franny. Every time I mention beer he goes hysterical and berates me. I haven't tasted even a drop of the awesomeness that is beer, and he thinks I've committed a heinous crime by the mere mention of it. The way he told me that I can't drink beer after delivery was like handing me over to an executioner. Beer is to me as sex is to you, so I hope you'll understand how much it hurts to hear him berate me." she muttered despondently, hanging her head in defeat and tracing circles on the bowl with her fingers. "Would I want to punch someone so hard in the face right now…" Francis cringed and backed away slowly in the direction of the kitchen.

"Come now, Gil. I think it's best that you drown your hate away with Antonio's paella. We can think of punching someone's lights out tomorrow, okay?" he pleaded, tentatively touching her arm as he cautiously led her away. "I believe we have neglected poor Antonio so let's have dinner and catch up on what we have missed."

* * *

><p>"Amigos, how do you like the paella?" Antonio asked, a big smile on his face as he watched his best friends devour the meal he had prepared.<p>

With his mouth full of food, Francis could only raise both hands in a thumbs-up of approval, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. Antonio caught the look and beamed happily. Turning to Gillian he noticed how she shoved big chunks into her mouth in a rather displeased way. The Spaniard wondered at her behavior but decided not to comment on it yet. He was happy that their trio was complete once more, and he wanted to bask in the moment.

"Your food isn't all that bad, Tonio," Gillian grumbled between bites. "I think it lacks flavor though." At the Spaniard's confused look, Francis decided to graciously intervene and clear the matter up in case Antonio's mind processed too slowly.

"She compliments your paella, mon ami, but bemoans the fact that due to her pregnancy, her senses aren't working properly at all. There are a lot of changes happening to a pregnant woman, and our dear friend is a prime example." Francis explained, a smirk on his lips as he glanced at Gillian. Antonio blinked for a few minutes before suddenly lighting up. "Oh! So you mean Gillian can't taste the food as much as before!" Both of his friends could only sigh in resignation as they continued eating. Some things never change.

"It's not like the food is bland, but it was you who chose a vegetarian kind of paella. Why? Paella isn't supposed to be like that, you know?"

"Shut up, Franny. I know that. I guess Roderich rubbed off on me, trying to be health conscious and all."

"And it took me a good while to look for substitutes, amigos. You gave me a challenge, but I'm happy you still liked it."

"Oh we would never dislike any food you cook for us, Tonio! Bring it on!"

"My, my, you've got a big appetite tonight, mon ami."

"As if I'm the only one. You've refilled your plate twice!"

The night was still young; the trio still had a lot to catch up on after all.

* * *

><p>Somewhere else, a bespectacled pianist had resigned himself to enter a nearby bookstore and buy a map. Maybe he should eat dinner at a restaurant tonight as well.<p>

Roderich sighed for the fifth time that night. He really shouldn't have gone and aggravated Gillian. Her curse worked effectively, and he just about had enough. He didn't want to keep driving in endless circles trying miserably to return home. She was probably back home right now, playing some ridiculous video games like some sort of child or munching away on snacks or watching a movie and whining about how unawesome the world was. He only hoped that when he returned she would get over her sulky state and forgive him once again.

* * *

><p>Back in Antonio's house, the trio were passing the time lazily in the living room. Gillian lay on the sofa as she tossed a tomato in the air. Antonio was sitting on the armchair with a guitar in hand. Francis was sprawled out on the carpet with a mischievous smile plastered on his face.<p>

"You know, we should do things we haven't done in a long while. Why did you have to go off and leave us, Gillian? You're being unfair!" the Frenchman whined teasingly, glancing at his friend in amusement. Gillian shot him a curious look, wondering what he was implying. Antonio chuckled at Francis' words and made puppy dog eyes at Gillian. "He's right, you had to leave the bad friends trio to become a good wife! Has he played you a siren song, mi amiga?" "Now you're both being ridiculous! Who said I ever left this group? Be thankful I'm back to shower you with my awesome glory. I have not betrayed you, nor have I been unfair," came the sarcastic retort.

Gillian chucked the tomato at Francis, hitting him in the face at the exact moment he had turned his head to acknowledge her. Antonio grinned and strummed a lively tune on his guitar. "Francis, you're flushed as red as the tomato on your face. Should I take a picture?" he asked excitedly, a grin on his face as Gillian winked at him. "Oh why are you suddenly ganging up on poor big brother here? What have I done to deserve such _betrayal_?" Francis wailed comically, wiping off the last bits of tomato on his face before scrambling up to look for a fresh batch of tomatoes to hurl at his enemies.

"I don't hit ladies, mon ami, but I believe you're not just any kind of woman!"

"Thanks for the compliment, I'm flattered but this is just the beginning. Let's show your girlfriends your choice of natural makeup."

"Mi amigos, I sure hope you clean up afterward," Antonio crooned as he continued to strum Spanish melodies on his guitar. He ducked behind the armchair just as a tomato sailed over where his head used o be mere seconds ago. "Stop being a spoilsport, Toni! If you want to remain neutral, be that way, but don't go harping about cleaning up early just yet. We're warming up!" Gillian yelled in reply as she used an old newspaper as a shield to block one of the tomatoes Francis threw at her. The Frenchman was chuckling as he dodged another tomato.

Damn, Antonio's spanish instrumental was proving to be undeniably fitting background music to their little tomato war.

Half an hour later and three empty tomato bowls, the trio were lying side by side on the stained carpet, the entire living room a terrible mess.

Francis looked like he had been bathing in tomatoes while Gillian looked like she had paint splashed over her clothes and face. Antonio was as clean as a washed plate. "Guys, I want you to do me a favor," Gillian sighed as she stared up at the ceiling. "If ever Roddy calls, don't tell him I'm here. If he arrives home to find that I still haven't returned he'd freak out. I'm still mad at him." Francis and Antonio exchanged glances and smiled conspiratorially.

"Worry not, we would never betray a bad friend."

"We're on your side, amiga. Besides, my house is probably the last Roderich will suspect. He _won't _be calling anytime soon!"

And like a bad case of déjà vu they heard the phone ring. Gillian glared at the Spaniard as Francis put a hand over his mouth to stop his chuckles from turning into full-blown laughs. "I think you had better answer that call; wouldn't want the caller to think you've got visitors. Oh, and we're not here, Toni."

Antonio got up and walked over to the ringing phone, but not before flashing his two friends a reassuring smile. The other two sat up and watched him intently, now deathly still and quiet.

Antonio could tell that the overly worried voice resisting the urge to wail on the other side of the phone belonged to Roderich. Yes, he probably must have called other people before calling him as the last resort. Antonio glanced at the wall clock. It read nine o' clock in the evening; still an early hour in the bad friends trio's opinion. But it was obvious that Gillian's husband thought otherwise.

He cheerily answered the phone, quickly drawing it away from his ear as he heard Roderich very nearly scream. "I know my wife is there with you and Francis. Let me talk to her! She must come home, it's already quite late." Antonio's cheery smile didn't melt just yet. He had to prove his friends that he could do better.

"Eh? You mean _Gillian_? But she's not here!" he mock whined, smile still in place that Gillian buried her face into Francis shoulder as she giggled.

"I know she's there. I called her brother and he said she's probably with you and Francis. I called Francis' house and no one answered, so he must be there."

"I'm sorry, but I think you got it all wrong. All that's here is me and my tomatoes. Would you like some? I haven't seen either Francis or Gillian in weeks. You really shouldn't be so hard on Gillian, you know! Francis might probably be out chasing skirts; it's a beautiful night for a sexual conquest, that's what he's always told me. As for Gillian, maybe she's hiding from you? Ah, we haven't spoken to each other in so long, Roderich! I'm still not retracting my offer; care for tomatoes?"

By now both Francis and Gillian were doing everything in their power not to burst out laughing. Antonio could ramble endlessly and change the topics so quickly. He was making it seem so easy! And what was that eerily dreamy look on his face? Was he purposely being oblivious? Well, they couldn't ask for more, it was just to entertaining to see how the Spaniard could rile up the pianist even more with just a permanent smile and a clueless tone in his voice.

They finally burst out laughing when he hung up the phone with a confused look on his face. Turning to them he asked, "What did I say to make him hung up so fast? I haven't told him about the concert I saw…"

"Don't feel bad, that was awesome, Antonio! If I want to get rid of Roderich on the phone, I really should let you answer his calls! You're a lifesaver."

"But he was worried about you."

"Tch, he worries too much. I'd worry if he suddenly stopped worrying."

"Ah, I'm glad you remembered big brother's words about nights like this! I feel so honoured that you quote me!"

"I thought it was funny."

"Quoi? Am I just _comic relief _to you, Tonio?"

* * *

><p>Roderich collapsed onto the nearest chair as he stared bewildered at the phone. He had forgotten how chatty that Spaniard could be. He sounded so excited, so happy, like a small child waiting for the parent to come home. He didn't sound worried about his friend being missing at all! Oh well, Antonio never worried much about anything. Maybe he should start being like the Spaniard more; to be a tad carefree and light-hearted. No, that was probably impossible. Who could not worry? With Gillian as his wife, his <em>pregnant<em> wife, it was something to be dreadfully worried about, and right now he knew not of her whereabouts!

"Hey Gil, if you're sleepy, you can take the guestroom. You know where it is. I'll clean up first."

"I want to sleep with Gil!"

"Sure you can. On the floor. I'm not sharing any pillows either."

"That is mean, Gillian! I'm volunteering to be your bodyguard for tonight!"

"And the only person my body needs guarding from is you. You're the perverted molester who rapes people in their sleep. I'm not taking chances."

"But you can still have sex even when pregnant, didn't you know that? Oh come on, probably the reason why you're so moody is because your prissy husband is too inhibited to try these things! Let big brother make you feel good."

"Let me make you feel pain, Francis. I don't care about sex right now. You can sleep on the floor of my room or on the tomato-stained sofa or with Antonio."

Gillian smirked triumphantly as Antonio handed her an extra pillow before wishing her goodnight. She winked at a whining Francis before disappearing into the guestroom.

"Antonio, let me sleep with you tonight! Because of you two, I haven't been able to show that girl earlier today some of my amour! You ruined my date!"

Antonio smiled sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder as he made his way to his own room.

"You know where the light switch of the living room is, right? Goodnight Francis! Don't worry, I cleaned the sofa!" the Spaniard said before heading for his own room as well, leaving Francis staring at him in mock horror.

"Why are you picking on _me_? You really are such bad friends!" he cried dramatically, turning off the lights before throwing himself upon the sofa.

Yes, it felt good to be a bad friend as well. And just this once, he had to admit that Gillian was right. The three of them together were _awesome_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Okay, that tomato scene was inspired by listening to Romano's Delicious Tomato Song on repeat (it's way too addicting!) And now this is the part wherein I sincerely apologize to everyone because updates will be slower than ever. I'm going to be extremely busy in the next several weeks. If ever I do get a chance at internet (hopefully), I won't hesitate to update.

So thank you to each and everyone of you for kind and patient consideration. I really appreciate all the reviews and support I get.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** OMG! I'm so sorry for taking so long to post this chapter! I feel so guilty for not 'borrowing' my friend's laptop when I had the chance. Actually, my laptop died on Christmas Day when my brother accidentally spilled his drink on it(epic way to die). So all of my drafts for this story were lost and I had to rewrite them on paper for quite a while.(I'm still looking for another good friend of mine who might be able to fix my laptop.) I'm sorry for the long wait! I'm not sure if I can go back to regular updating since I just lost my files. Hopefully, I can type up the rest in the coming weeks.

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><p>Antonio was an expert in dealing with children. Sadly, he was no expert in dealing with pregnant women. One could safely assume Francis would, seeing as he was the self-proclaimed expert in love, romance, and women. Unfortunately, his expertise also fell short in the same area where most men fail. Dealing with pregnant women, especially like one Gillian Maria. But surely there was a way? Truly, in the throes of love, passion, and friendship, there would be a way.<p>

"I am sorry if I offend you, mon ami, but I really must point out that you need to shop for more fitting clothes and lingerie." Francis murmured contemplatively as he gazed at his friend, who was munching contentedly on some toasted garlic bread. At his words, Gillian's head snapped in his direction with undeniable curiosity, although there were underlying tones of a challenge that sparked in her eyes as she smirked.

"Care to enlighten me? My underwear not to your tastes? I'm sorry to disappoint you since Roderich has tightened his budget and won't let me buy something hot and lacy. I don't think I should be wearing any lace in my condition either." she quipped. Antonio took a seat next to her, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. He sighed happily before taking a good look at his female friend, and the smile left his face.

"I think Francis is right, Gil. Maybe you should change your entire wardrobe."

"I believe we should shop for something befitting that of a pregnant woman. Perhaps you need some clothes that would make you look more…" the Frenchman trailed off as Gillian's eyes hardened and her lips curled into a frown. Beside her Antonio was painfully oblivious to the rising tension. The grin on his face was making Francis more nervous as each second passed by. "Explain what this pervert is talking about, Tonio, or I'm going to make sure he isn't capable of spreading any of his amour to many other hapless women anymore.

"Come now, Gil. Let's go shopping. We can help you with whatever problem you're facing. We can even do better than your husband when it comes to picking all the good stuff. Franny is merely suggesting that even as a pregnant woman, you still have to look sexy!"

Silence pervaded the dinner area as Francis' jaw dropped in shock, and Gillian froze in her seat as their undivided attention was soon directed towards their cheery friend who sipped his coffee without a clue.

"Tonio, what the heck is in that coffee? Are you sure you're okay? What you suggested just made my day!" Gillian shrieked the moment she got over her initial surprise. She got out of her seat as fast as she could and crushed her friend into an emotionally-charged embrace. Antonio had his moments of brilliance, and when he did, he outshone Francis in literally everything. Yes, Gillian decided from that moment on to listen to whatever the carefree Spaniard had to say, for today at least.

* * *

><p>Hours later and the trio found themselves cruising the malls searching for the 'perfect maternal wardrobe' as Francis coined it. The Frenchman offered to pay everything of course, claiming that he had to do it as a peace offering to appease Gillian, who had held a grudge ever since he mentioned the forbidden 'F' word.<p>

Soon enough, all three were carrying shopping bags filled with an assortment of what Gillian needed to wear. Antonio was rattling off the names of different pregnant women he had met who wore this and that, and Gillian tuned it out rather admirably, her attention caught by the trinkets sold in one shop. Francis was checking his wallet every now and then to see if he could still manage to pay for the next batch of lingerie he was sure Gillian would like to have. Surely her husband should know what to buy for her! A pregnant wife's needs came first! But then again, Francis sighed; Roderich could be very dense and insensitive at times. Which reminded him he never really knew the real reason why Gillian married the snobbish, old-fashioned musician.

"For curiosity's sake Gillian, would you mind telling us why of all people did you choose someone like Roderich? You could have picked me, or someone that would have suited your personality and tastes more, you know." Francis whined mockingly, his lips in a childish pout as he poked Gillian's shoulder. The pregnant woman turned to shoot him a withering glare.

The trio slow down for a moment; Antonio humming a happy tune as he shifts the bags in his hands, his gaze focused somewhere far away, and Francis challenging their female friend with his baiting words. Finally, Gillian picks up the pace for them.

"Pick you? You're my best friend, Franny. And I know you too well. You'd bore me to death sooner or later. You may have all the fine points of a romantic Frenchman but I am quite immune to your little flair for romance. As for other men," Gillian sniffs disdainfully before flashing both of her friends a devilish grin. "You know only few are able to handle someone with this level of awesome!"

Francis' face breaks into a mischievous smile. "Oh? And you're saying Roderich is one of those impossibly few who can stand your level of awesomeness?"

"No, Roderich provides me with entertainment! He's the kind of guy you'd like to mess with for fun." Gillian replies with brimming glee before her attention is entranced by one of the shops they pass by.

"Doesn't that sound a bit cruel now, coming from you, his wife?" "Nah. He doesn't mind as much, he's built up a tolerance actually. But I've studied him for a while now; he's got the potential for awesome." Gillian replies after a few seconds of contemplation.

There is something akin to fondness in the gleam of her eyes, and Francis does not miss it. Truly his friend was changing.

"And what about us? We have stuck with you far longer than he did, and we understand you pretty well! Why can't you compliment us too?" The teasing whine in the Frenchman's voice increases dramatically, making Gillian roll her eyes at the expression on her friend's face. Next to her, Antonio's grin doesn't fade.

"Come now, Francis! Think of it this way, we're already part of Gillian's list of awesome people to be with because she hangs out with us, we're her best friends!"

"Tonio, why are you so strangely brilliant today? You say all the right things!"

And so the bickering went on for another several minutes before they found the specific shops which catered to their needs (and to Francis' tastes).

"What's your size?" Such an innocently placed question coming from not-so-innocent lips.

"Huh?"

"Your bra size, Gil."

"Perv. Why are you asking me that?" Francis shrinks a bit at the venomous glare from his friend.

"No, no. You misunderstand me, mon ami. We're buying you extra bras just in case. Don't you think you'll be needing it very soon?" Francis casually replies, eyeing her chest knowingly.

Gillian grits her teeth and suppresses a growl rising in her throat. "Fine, pervert frog. I'm keeping an eye on you. No wait, maybe Tonio should come with me instead."

"Does our dear little tomato-loving friend know anything about women and their boob obsession?"

"Not all women are obsessed with their busts, you sick pervert. And if you try anything, absolutely _anything_ in the ladies' department store, I am going to hang you with the straps from the brassieres, and I don't care how much they're going to cost if I'm going to use them on you."

"Oui, I understand your concerns, my dear. Now let's go! The fancy lingerie staff await our grand entrance."

* * *

><p>"Tell me where you have taken her, Bonnefoy." That stern voice over the phone is most definitely familiar, and not the person the Frenchman is hoping to converse with.<p>

"Don't worry about her, she's in good hands!" Both Gillian and Antonio pause as they watch Francis attempt to placate the yells coming from the other end. People are already turning to stare at them in confusion, and the last thing they need is unwanted attention.

"We're shopping…eh, no, shopping for lingerie of course!" Heads whirled in confusion as Francis dropped his phone as if he had just been burned. What seemed like a loud explosion echoed from the other end as Antonio gingerly picked the device up and held it at arms length.

"I think your husband is throwing a fit. Maybe you can calm him down before he comes after us with musical instruments that can be used as weapons, mi amiga. I think Francis' phone cannot take the endless stream of ranting and raving anymore "

"Eh, give it here. Roddy is merely making mountains out of molehills. Franny's words have multiple meanings most of the time, so it's normal to make wrong assumptions." Gillian muttered in resignation, her eyes gleaming in warning towards the sheepish Frenchman. In a cool, clipped voice she answered the phone above the intense piano racket her husband was performing as an expression of his anger.

"Yes, yes, Roddy, we know you're livid, we know you care deep down in that pianist's heart of yours but there's really nothing to worry about. In fact, you should rejoice and be thankful that Francis is the one who's paying for our little shopping trip! Now don't you start-! You won't have to waste a single cent; isn't that nice? Yes, yes, I'm perfectly fine except that my feet are aching from all that walking, but-no, nobody's molesting or harassing me. I feel awesome! Ah, well if you feel so left out then come join us and share your biased opinions!" Gillian grinned at her best friends; Francis crossing his arms over his head and silently mouthing his objections to Roderich shopping with them, Antonio smiling and nodding his head in agreement. Francis wanted to snatch his phone back and tell Roderich to simply stay at home and play his sonatas. This was a Bad Friends Trio moment, damn it!

When Gillian's conversation with her husband had ended, Francis was sulking. Wondering what was going on in that head of his, Antonio tapped him on the shoulder and offered him some churros which he had bought from the nearest stand he had spotted several minutes ago. Francis wasn't moved.

"Gillian, your husband is going to ruin the fun we're supposed to enjoy for the rest of the day. This is an exclusive Bad Friends Trio shopping trip! Why did you have to go and invite him to shop with us?" Again with that annoying whine.

"Whoever said Roderich accepted my offer? He only told me to take care and have some fun with you guys. He's busy composing another piece so he declined right away. You're right Francis, this is our BFT moment, so having my husband around would only spoil whatever stuff you planned for us. So don't worry about extra company because this is a shopping trip for our awesome trio."

The Frenchman brightens considerably and with a dramatic sigh returns to his normal cheery, perverted self.

"Really? Then come, dear friends of mine! We, the Bad Friends, shall spread awesomeness and amour to the rest of the malls in the district. Our adventure has just begun!"

"Eh? I thought we were going home after this, Franny. You did mention something about only having spare change left in your wallet!"

"Oh Antonio, my silly friend, did you not realize I was merely joking? I still have my credit cards! Let us hurry, the beautiful ladies at the department store must not be kept waiting!"

"I believe the smile is slipping from your face, frog. I bet Antonio's telling the truth. You don't have enough money huh? Come on, man up! I can tell when your smiles are becoming way too fake."

"Non! Don't say such horrid words, Gillian! I can prove it to you!"

"Nah, don't worry about keeping your image up when you're among friends. Tonio and I will be pooling our budget together to buy you something nice in return…As thanks for treating us to this shopping trip."

"Yep. Gil's right. We won't be your awesome bad friends if you're the only one spending, Francis. Here, want some churros?"

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><p><strong>AN: **Please be patient with me (again)! I'll try to post the next chapter up as soon as I can. (I hope I can still retrieve my old files, and I hope I can leech off someone else's computer~). Anyway, please read and review! Thank you very much to everyone who liked this story~!Hopefully, the next chapter will be pure PruAus.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **At last! Here's the next chapter (after a considerably long wait.)

I do not own Hetalia. I stake no claim to Hetalia.

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><p>As Gillian looked out the window she had not expected time to pass by so quickly. The faint notes of the piano floated into the room and she knew her husband was composing some new piece again. He seemed to be failing to accomplish anything related to his music though and that came as a surprise to her, not that she would say that out loud to his face (Roderich was too sensitive, too fragile for that).<p>

Now that she thought of it, how long was it since Roderich had locked himself up in his music room? Did he have a concert to prepare for?

Some important event that he was anxious about?

So far nothing came into mind and Gillian was stumped as to what could have brought Roderich into one of his moods.

Last week had been absolutely hectic for them after one short trip to the clinic ended up with her dear husband repeating the doctor's health lecture to her twice. Oh how hard she had tried not to snap at him for following her everywhere in the house like some sort of military escort. It was troublesome enough explaining to him in the kindest way possible that she could take care of herself and ensure that she would do nothing stupid that might jeopardize the baby's health. (Roderich almost always fusses for no good reason after all!) They also had an argument about preparing a room for the baby. In the end it had not gone well at all since they could not agree on the room's interior design. (Something about disliking the idea of yellow chick wallpapers!)

After their household mishaps Roderich was busy teaching children how to play piano in his special class for the following days. (She did not see him for hours during the days but all those hours of peace and quiet and generally being left alone was better than getting nagged all over again for her bad habits.) But this week was quite the opposite. There was already almost nothing interesting to do in the house and when they had gone for that scheduled prenatal check-up last week the doctor declared her and the baby in perfectly healthy condition.

So the only unhealthy one in the house had to be Roderich.

Him and his being the complete opposite of calm gentlemanliness.

Him and his unhealthy obsession with his unfinished compositions.

Perhaps her little brother had been right in assessing that her husband could have the most erratic moods.

To see what he was up to, she ventured into what she considered her husband's precious kingdom: his music room. Oh, but what a history that music room had! She could reminisce all those valuable bits of history later as she caught sight of her husband bent over his beloved piano as he struggled to reorganize his sheet music. The look of concentration on his face was priceless. She suddenly wished she brought a camera to immortalize this moment. For someone who prided himself in his self-control, Roderich could have the most adorably silly expressions and emotions written clearly on his face.

"What kind of song are you trying to compose this time?" she questioned once he finally acknowledged her with a surprised stare.

"I'm composing a lullaby," Roderich waved a few of his unfinished notes in front of his wife's bemused face. "A lullaby for our child."

"Oh Roderich, you don't have to create a lullaby with such a constipated look on your face. The severity of your emotions would immediately be conveyed in your notes and then no one would be able to sleep after hearing the opening tunes."

Surely Gillian had meant for the joke to lighten up the atmosphere a bit but Roderich frowned at that. "Then what am I supposed to do? I want our child to have a beautiful lullaby to listen to!"

Fussy, dramatic Roderich mode was already bubbling up the surface and Gillian knew she had to quell it before the worst could happen. "Stop worrying yourself to death about these things," Gillian sat beside her distraught husband at the piano.

It was a bit difficult to maneuver herself to give him a reassuring hug especially when her belly was nearly the size of a watermelon. She nearly bumped him out of the seat. "You don't have to compose complicated music for our baby yet. Your voice will be the best music our kid can listen to day and night. Besides, a little improvising won't hurt anybody."

They should do something together. They were married! _Married_! They shouldn't fight constantly or ruin each other's moods right?

Maybe it was time to reintroduce poor, highly stressed Roderich to the awesome wonders of leisure, relaxation and distractions. "Come, come Roddy _darling_," she murmured in the softest and gentlest of tones so as not to aggravate his nerves, "I believe it is time you took a break from your music and did something else. Something, which in my awesome opinion, has to do with other really awesome things you enjoy doing aside from piano key-smashing. Don't you pity your beloved piano, my dear hubby? I believe you have overworked it that's why it is not cooperating with you in composing fine music so, let your emotions loose on something else for a change."

"Oh Gillian, why is it that when I look at that strange glint in your eye I don't have a good feeling about whatever it is you are plotting at all!" "Oh ye of little faith, Roderich! Come and I will show you awesome alternatives!"

* * *

><p>It was a good thing that Roderich's moods were easy to read and even easier to change. Apparently letting him loose in the kitchen was an alternate method to relieving his stress since it was his piano that had caused him much trouble in the first place.<p>

Gillian waited for him to finish, mop at the ready in case another one of his strange explosions occurred. Being married to him still did not change the universal fact that no one really knows how he comes up with perfectly baked creations amidst mysterious explosions. She didn't bother asking now that she thought of it. Then again, maybe she should leave it all alone. A mystery would no longer be exciting once uncovered, and inwardly she liked Roderich with a bit of surprises in him.

She snapped out of her musings when she heard the clanging of pots and plates. "You do know I have to uphold my brother's cleanliness from time to time, yeah? Just tell me when you're done and I can unleash this awesome mop's powers on the kitchen!"

Whatever surprises Roderich had however, it was always best to be prepared even if it had to be a bit exaggerated.

Roderich tried to tone down his smile as they both looked at the finished product. Gillian arched a brow at him questioningly.

"Of all the cakes and pastries you could have made you chose banana cake?"

"Yes. We had some bananas left over the other day when you had those cravings of yours. I just couldn't let them rot away!" Roderich countered, a small frown making its way on his features. Again. He had tried his best to save the rest of the fruit and turn them into something else but his wife was obviously not happy with his efforts.

Finally, the disappointed look on his face softened something within Gillian and she shrugged in acceptance. After all, a happy and contented Roderich was better than a grumpy and fussy one.

"Fine, let me try it. It smells good so maybe there's a bit of awesomeness in that little cake you made." Maybe it was time to cut him some slack since he was making things hard on himself.

It didn't take five minutes for her to proclaim the highest of praises to the slice she had nibbled on. The rest of the cake was consumed so quickly that Roderich could only afford to eat a third of his own share before his wife snatched it off his plate. Roderich was flattered. He inwardly thanked Gillian's cravings for the sudden change. Maybe he should start paying more attention to his kitchen than to his piano. Apparently his culinary skills could magically put a happy grin on his wife's face than his musical skills.

* * *

><p>That was followed by a relatively peaceful lunch, with Gillian's complaints kept to a minimum, her only comment being that they had interchanged the order of dessert and lunch; it was utter bliss for Roderich's ears to hear the wonderful sound of silence in the household for the rest of the meal. When Gillian moved to the living room to find a more comfortable resting position for her legs, he followed her and kept in mind that he still had a mountain of dishes to wash. (Most left over from Gillian's midnight snacking.)<p>

They both took their time basking in the calmness of noon. Gillian would sometimes rub affectionately at her more rounded belly that Roderich had to wonder if Gillian would make a good mother.

When she made wild gestures at him to come closer he nearly fell out of his seat. There was a wild and happy grin on her face as she massaged a certain spot on her belly. Washing the dishes could be put off for another hour if his wife was so eager to have him in close proximity.

As he knelt by her side she took hold of his hand and placed it above that certain spot on her belly. He blinked up at her when he felt a tiny jolt.

"Can you feel it? The baby's moving. Say something," she murmured as he let his hand wander a bit.

There was a different rush of emotions that rolled into him as he stayed there with Gillian, the tiny movements in her belly awakening whatever paternal instinct he had lying dormant in his very being. He nearly lost all coherent thought as she giggled lightly and patted him on the shoulder when there was another light movement while he caressed her belly. All those affectionate gestures and motherly gentleness emanating from Gillian was something he never expected.

For the first time in his life, Roderich knew this was another great turning point. They were both going to be parents really soon now, just a few more months to go and they would finally be able to see and hold their baby. After everything they had gone through in this relationship, this marriage, they would finally take the first steps into parenthood together. This baby still in Gillian's womb was the fruit of their love for each other no matter how many ups and downs their relationship had endured. This soon-to-be-born baby they would love and cherish together as a family.

It was _hope_.

* * *

><p>Two days after hope had blossomed that quiet afternoon, Roderich felt it was nothing more than a dream.<p>

"Well, what do you think?"

Roderich looked up from the book he was reading and raised a brow in curiosity. Gillian turned her gaze away from the window and grinned. "Haven't been listening to me again, have you?"

Most definitely _not_.

His wife had been rambling for what seemed like an entire hour already and he was lost after the third sentence that spouted out of that loud mouth, and so he had picked up a book for distraction.

In fact, he did not remember exactly what it was that made Gillian rant so animatedly in the first place.

"What do I think of what?"

"The rain. See? It's raining outside real good, and so I came to wonder, what if our baby's born on a rainy day? Cold and dreary like this? You know vater had some really strange superstitions about the weather and stuff. Think our kid's gonna turn out grumpy and cold and scrooge-like if born on a rainy day?"

"What are you talking about? That's just plain nonsense!"

Book forgotten, Roderich's interest was now piqued by the topic at hand. Gillian viciously bit into a cream puff before settling herself more comfortably by the windowsill; the cold rain outside fogging up the glass and decorating it with silver splatters.

"What about a snowy day? Oh wait, how many months to go? I don't think the baby will be born during winter. So what if? Maybe a stormy day, or a really cloudy day with lots of fog that you can't see a thing. What do you think Roddy?"

The smile on her face was tempting, it was the mischievous kind that promised certain doom if approached in the wrong manner.

"I prefer that your due date would be a reasonably warm, sunny day so I won't have to worry about umbrellas, raincoats and runny noses. The weather won't have anything to do with the baby's temperament, you should know that!"

There was a short period of silence between them as they battled for the last cream puff on the tray. Gillian won out in the end, although she did cheat. _Again_. Roderich sighed and ignored the victorious smirk sent his way.

Sometimes for the sake of peace and happiness it was best to let your wife win household battles, well, most of the time. He never considered himself a sore loser.

Gillian had turned her attention back to the window once more, though she considered to address him with her fanciful babble.

"You know vater once joked that I am what I am today because I was born during a sunny day. Y'know, the one where it's really nice and warm and all the people would just love to go to the beach or something. That kind of happy sunny day."

Both their gazes met evenly for a second before Roderich grunted and buried his nose in his book. "Then I hope you give birth on a rainy day. Maybe the baby won't have to be like you so much. Then there will be a bit of quiet in this house."

Gillian cackled in amusement at his reply. "Get over it Roddy! You can be as noisy as you want. You do cause a good racket sometimes, especially when you're in a mood. Stop being a hypocrite because I've heard you curse up a storm in the shower once."

"Right. Forget we have ever had this discussion. I don't even recall what it was you were talking about a while ago."

"That brings us back to 'You haven't been listening at all, have you?' which I have somehow mentioned earlier."

"This discussion is going in circles." came the resigned sigh.

Gillian, in casual observance, swept a contemplative look at her husband before stating in nonplussed tone, "Come to think of it, circles. Vater did mention that the shapes of a pattern or design on the baby's first blanket determined personality. What shape are you, I wonder."

"Too bad. My mother wrapped me in a plain white blanket when I was born," Roderich replied with a smirk.

Gillian caught the underlying tones of smug delight. She shrugged and got up, making her way towards the toilet but not before giving her husband a light pat on the shoulder.

"Ah. So that's why you're as plain and boring as that blanket."

The ridiculous splutter of surprise and that priceless look on Roderich's face made Gillian do a mental fist pump.

Roderich - 1, Gillian - 100

"Take that, my darling prissy husband. You can _never beat the awesome me!" she declared aloud, leaving said husband to wonder at her words._

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><p><strong>AN: **And that's all I can give you. I am terribly sorry for those who have waited for an update! you know how busy real life gets...and my family recently moved so yeah, really hectic business for the past months. Hopefully (fingers crossed) I can put up the next chapter (if and when another stable internet connection occurs.)_  
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	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I am terribly sorry for the long silence. I couldn't post this chapter sooner because I had to focus on my major. (I need to graduate this year, please bear with the long gaps between chapters!) I'll have the next one out soon, I'm just not sure when exactly. I am so sorry to those who waited and hoped for updates to this story! I promise you guys, I will finish this thing!

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><p>It was with great reluctance that Gillian lay back down on the bed, a hiss of annoyance escaping her lips as she felt the heat of the hot compress sting her back through the thin fabric of her blouse. She sent Roderich a fierce glare when he tried to shift closer.<p>

"The awesome me does not need to be babied. The doctor said this would be a normal part of having a belly nearly the size of a watermelon."

"That doesn't mean you should ignore your back pains. You're always up and about; rest a while and think of your health for once."

"Oh I have. I haven't touched that bottle of schnapps, yeah? If I cared less I would have raided my brother's fridge in the middle of the night. This backache is nothing! I will be fine, and I do tell you to stop worrying."

Once she had shifted into a more comfortable position, Gillian shut her eyes and allowed Roderich to sidle up to her.

To be honest, the throbbing pain in her back really was quite annoying, and it was rather unawesome now that it had become a more frequent occurrence, but she would rather bite off her own fingers than tell her husband. She was aware of her dear Roderich's nature, although he always had the best intentions he worried far too much, and she knew it would do nothing for his own health. She had to be strong for both of them when Roderich obviously could not keep himself together during this period in their lives.

'He used to have so much self-control,' she mused.

Maybe this needless fussing over a pregnant woman was a male thing to do? Was her pregnant state causing the masculine wiring in Roderich's brain to go on overdrive?

West didn't exhibit any signs of anxiety and he was the type to go overboard!

Neither Antonio nor Francis reacted negatively when around her, so the problem just had to be Roderich's mind. But then again, her brother wasn't married to someone as awesome as her, and neither Francis nor Antonio were ready to tie the knot with their significant others.

It was just her luck to have married someone like Roderich, so as his wife she just had to make sure that her husband was the one that received proper rest.

Perhaps he was going a bit stir-crazy being cooped up here with her subjecting himself to be her nanny or something. She remembered he used to go for walks or teach piano to the local kids on weekends. Now he had made it his personal mission to be stuck to her like a leech. An overly worried and fussy leech.

It just made Gillian feel a tad unawesome for taking away a wee bit of his hobbies, though it only intensified his manly nagging.

The compress was growing cold. She handed it to Roderich with a little huff. Her nanny-husband was staring at her with an unreadable expression.

"Once that thing is warm you come back here, lie down and use it. You need to relax as well. My back's not hurting anymore."

Roderich stared at her skeptically.

"You're not having any leg cramps?"

"No. Roddy, stop asking. I'll tell you when I'm hurting. Right now, I'm already fine. The awesome me recovers quickly." She flashed him a grin meant to be somewhat reassuring, although it only caused him to stifle a slight grimace.

Once Roderich had left the room, she scrambled out of bed and reached for the nearest phone. Pressing on the speed dial a bit harder than necessary she waited with baited breath as the phone started to ring.

She needed to be free from confinement! She needed space just as much as Roderich needed space. The atmosphere in this house just would not do!

Constant bickering and worrying and nagging just battered at her awesomeness and they both needed a happier, brighter way to recharge and prepare for their kid.

She needed to get Roderich out and away and fulfill some of his other dreams which he had put on hold ever since the pregnancy.

They had sacrificed a lot for their baby, but they needed to fill up that bit of emptiness. Not even sex would fill up the gaping maw alcohol abstinence had left in her!

No! they needed at least some of their hobbies, some of their pastimes, some of the tiny little things that made them feel a bit more confident and happy in themselves. Being a married couple had its perks. Being a married couple with the baby on the way was something they still both needed a lot of mastering.

"West," she grumbled once she heard a noncommittal grunt on the other end of the line.

"Schwester," came her brother's low, rumbling voice. There was a hint of wariness in her little brother's voice and if she timed everything correctly, she would be able to bypass his suspicions in favour of his innate desire to please.

"If I bring Roderich over to your house for a bit, can you watch over him and make sure he learns how to have some fun, relax and forget his worries, the whole thing, y'know. I need to do something. I can't tell you why! It won't be an awesome secret of mine if you know! Come on, West…"

Her whining was met with several minutes of tense silence before a suspicious coughing sound came from the other end of the line.

"There's a reason why I don't often have you _and_ Roderich come over at the same time. Do you not remember the last time that husband of yours came over?"

Of course she remembered that infamous last time!

Who could ever forget that infamous last time of drunken revelry and legendary partying wherein nearly the entire neighborhood bore witness to the event?

It was probably one of the best times she'd ever experienced, and she even ranked it among the top three most awesome experiences to ever happen in her awesome life, though she absolutely had no idea why Ludwig hated it immensely.

After all, he was the first to get absolutely trashed enough to warble a poor rendition of some Italian ballad his not-so-secret lover taught him. Roderich just happened to be drunk enough to accompany him in an ear-splitting duet, complete with a bit of uncoordinated swaying and tap dancing.

What could be so bad about that? The only ones in attendance were best friends, good friends, party friends, mischief-making friends and even ex-friends so long as they knew how to celebrate a proper party. Oh, good times!

"Not to worry, West! You'll only have him for today. I just need to pay a rather unsavoury visit to someone I'd really not like to see, but it can't be helped." She really hoped her appeal would be acceptable!

The silence that permeated the air for nearly twenty minutes was terrible.

Did stupid Ludwig hang up on her?

A moment of silence so long it might have been forever, and then, a low resigned sigh.

"Okay. I'm not asking you anymore questions. What are you willing to do in return for babysitting your husband?"

The sarcasm was not lost on Gillian as a grin morphed on her face.

"Like I keep telling you, bro, don't worry. You can choose from a range of awesome freebies care of the awesome me. Want me to reserve only the best of the best at a fancy restaurant for you and that cute Italian of yours? Or maybe you prefer free and unlimited access to all the beer they offer in that rave club we used to go to?

"I know you haven't been there in a while, and you love their beer, and I love the bartender! Just say the word, and I'll give you something even better. It'll be worth making sure my hubby is relaxed. Why, you can even bring him along! Both of you need another party!"

It didn't take long to hear Ludwig's exasperated reply after that.

Letting loose another mental fist-pump Gillian ended the call and waited for Roderich's return.

Roderich was not amused. The last time he had been to his brother-in-law's house had ended as quite a bad experience. Of course Ludwig could be a rather good host but when the topic finally turned to music, their opinions clashed horribly.

He just hoped Ludwig would not care to mention anything about composers this time.

Ludwig cast his sister a final glare as she waved a cheery goodbye. "Play nice, West! I wouldn't want to come back and find my husband's corpse in the basement. There'll be hell to pay even if you're my bro."

"When will you be back?"

"Later!"

Right. Later could mean tomorrow, or maybe even next month.

Once she was gone, Ludwig stiffened his shoulders and mentally prepared himself to face one troublesome brother-in-law tinkering in his kitchen. He had to admit that Roderich could be nice and polite, but he inwardly pleaded to the heavens that the musician would not say a word about music today.

After Gillian sent Roderich off to Ludwig's, with too many hissed protests and vague mumblings only a fussy husband could muster even as he carried the cake he had baked just for the occasion, the most awesome pregnant woman in the entire planet went off to find an unawesome ex-boyfriend who owed her multiple favours.

But before she could speak face to face with said unawesome ex, she needed to overcome the overprotective witch-dragon of a sister her ex was tragically related to. And wrangling with that beast was no easy task.

"Listen Nat, I'm not here to get back together with your crazy bro, I'm married, you see this ring? Awesome, yeah? Well you can't have it, and neither can your bro! But I need to see him so you have to let me in, even just for five minutes because he owes me a favour, and no, don't look at me like that…! I know what you're thinking Nat, don't say a word, the awesome me just needs to see-"

"I'm not letting you in, even if you're married to someone else, you're still the bitch that stole my brother's heart and broke it! I've had to scare away a lot of other unworthy bitches for my brother's affections, why can't he look at me like he used to look at you?! You're the reason I'm not married to him and-"

"Oh? It's little Gil - " came the voice of Gillian's saviour, and unfortunately, her ex.

"Yo, Ivan! Don't call me little, I mean business. Lemme in you inhospitable commie. Tell your witch sister to let me through."

"I will not allow you to corrupt my brother with your-"

"Let Gillian in, I'm sure there's a good reason for her visit. Please don't ruin our reputation further, sister!" Ivan, uncharacteristically, pleaded to his witch sister.

Well fuck. It seemed even creepier now that Gillian played audience to the little drama between brother and sister. To think the mighty Ivan Braginsky looked and sounded _scared _of his sister…

Turning his attention to her the moment Natalya retreated from the doorway and allowed Gillian entry, "You are quite well, da? You look…well, you look fat."

"Pssh! Don't ever call a pregnant woman fat in her presence, Ivan. You look fat too, I see your taste for thick jackets haven't changed. Can we dispense with the trivial formalities now, and please tell your batshit insane sister to stop lurking! ...Nat stop lurking! I told you I'm not here to commit adultery with your bro!"

The sound of Natalya slithering back into the darkness of the Braginsky's kitchen still didn't stop the cold shiver of icy relief that made its home in Gillian's spine. She hoped her child hadn't caught whatever virus Natalya carried along with her aura of menace. Ivan was still smiling politely in her direction, and thankfully, hadn't interrupted her frustrated shrieking. Now, back to business indeed.

"What brings you here, Gil? You have made it quite clear that you have made your happy fairytale ending come true…with that nerdy pianist, I presume? Ah, it makes me remember those good old days when we- " Ivan cut off when he noticed Gillian's blank expression. Right.

"I've come for the many favours you owed me all those many years ago, Ivan. I need to ask a favour of my own this time."

The polite smile slowly faded from Ivan's face, replaced with a contemplative frown. He nodded once at her, his eyes turning cold and calculated in a second, and Gillian sighed internally.

She had hoped that Ivan didn't assume his mob boss persona the moment they talked 'business'. Well. It couldn't be helped, the faster they got this resolved, the better it would be for all of them.

"I don't believe I owe you anything, Gil."

"Yeah you did, and now I need to borrow your private plane. Just for Roderich's one week concert in Brazil, mind you. Just this one favour, please." Gillian pleaded, her voice embarrassingly trailing off into a tiny whine.

She really, truly, desperately needed this favour. She just hoped Ivan harbored no hard feelings after that messy break-up years ago.

If Roderich found out that she was asking favours from her ex-boyfriend for his sake, not only would her husband throw an unholy fit, he would most likely pop several blood vessels in his tirade of righteous indignation and probably die of a heart attack and never see their baby born into the world.

"You need to remind me of all those favours that I asked of you, Gil, I truly don't recall asking you for…"

Then again, Gillian never denied having a wild imagination and she did love to think of possible scenarios where everyone could be happy and awesome, except that she really hoped this surprise would relieve some of Roderich's stress and take his mind off worrying for her and their baby.

"-or those times when we were dating we usually shared and it was all mutual on our parts that…"

Ever since her pregnancy Roderich had put on hold every appointment and scheduled concert for her sake. Well Gillian would not have any of that martyr bullshit! Her husband was awesome at his job and he would continue to remain awesome and world-renowned and she could happily brag about his achievements to their kid someday, but all of those fucking fairytale dreams would not come true if Roderich continued to be a considerate dick and stop his concerts…

"-lian…!"

"-illy…! Gil…!"

A large gloved hand waving frantically in front of her snapped Gillian back to a most unwanted reality.

Oh right, she was in Ivan's living room and she had wandered off into her own head because Ivan's unawesome vibes were boring her.

"Yeah? Sorry, my awesome self was somewhere in the awesome land of daydreams and I could not help bask in the awesomeness." she mumbled.

Somehow, Ivan remained unperturbed by everything and the creepy weird smile was plastered on his face once more.

"I said 'da'. You asked if I would lend you the private plane, though I don't know where you got the information I owned one."

"All badass motherfucking mob bosses get to own badass awesome tech, and a private plane is just one of them, of course I would know! I'm awesome enough to know everything about all things awesome, though at first it was just a hunch because I didn't think you needed another ego boost. So, wait…what?! You are seriously lending the plane?! Sure you're not rigging it with explosives or something? No hard feelings towards Roddy at all for stealing me away?"

"Nyet. I don't hold grudge."

This was probably a big step in Gillian's dreams coming true and Ivan the fucker was just smiling like it was no big deal.

This whole thing….was unreal…damn awesome! Too bad she was too far in her pregnancy for intercontinental trips.

'You're sure you're not changing your mind halfway?"

"Nyet. I can accept defeat in the war of love. I can accept that he is your final choice. Though I must congratulate you and Roderich; you're having a baby, and I do hope you get to be a happy family together."

"Oh. Thank you so much, I guess. I never would have expected those words from your mouth, Braginsky. You're somewhat awesome after all. Okay, maybe creepy badass is more appropriate but whatever."

Truly, Gillian wouldn't have expected a million other words to come from her ex, but the fucker was bipolar during their dating years and his temperament was mercurial at the best of times, but then again, anyone could be elevated to awesome status in Gil's books if they did really unexpectedly awesome stuff, like lending private planes and wishing happiness on an ex.

"But, if you don't mind me asking, why are you so hell-bent on getting your husband out of the country? I thought he was doing fine with his part-time job as a piano teacher."

"Where the fuck did you hear that? Roddy did not fucking advertise to the world that he was teaching kiddies how to play a fucking piano. For all they know he's just taken a short break from being a concert pianist, from being the most awesome pianist, if I do say so myself!" Gillian all but growled, the leer she was sending towards Ivan not affecting the same creepy polite smile anyway.

"You have your means of information, Gil. I have mine, and it is much more reliable and updated too. Let's just say we are even, da, and life would remain peaceful and happy for us both." Ivan replied, nonchalant as ever.

"Right. Awesome. That did not fucking sound a bit like a threat, and yeah, we're good, but don't you dare spread the fucking word that he's demoted himself to a piano teacher! He's just undercover and observing children and their behavior to prepare himself for when our awesome baby arrives!"

"That sounded a bit perverse…Anyway, why couldn't you have just borrowed money to pay for a normal flight instead of borrowing my plane?"

"Because the idea of a fucking private plane sounds awesome and my dear Roddy the insecure priss with a secret love for the spotlight needs all the awesomeness me can get. It would be awesome to make a comeback in the world of stuck-up music loving aristocrats if he got to ride in style!"

"Sweet. Completely blown out of proportions. Overdone. Still sweet gesture. Da. I approve of your logic and your method; arrogant with a flair for needless style."

"I know right! It's so awesome!"

When Gillian finished the rest of slightly more pleasant negotiations with Ivan, and finding out that the badass motherfucking mob boss was secretly seeing someone behind his crazy suicidal sister's back, she therefore concluded that this day was officially awesome, never mind that it was getting late!

Roderich was pissed off. There was a reason he disliked visits to Ludwig's house if he could help it; there was a reason Gillian acted as a buffer between him and her brother, they were, as she called it, both stubborn idiots with sticks high up in their asses and they only got worse when they were together. Something about differences in opinion probably a galaxy wide.

The only thing that could bring them to passably civil terms were Gillian, cakes, and alcohol. Sadly, there was none of the former two, and plenty of the latter. Ludwig's cellar was probably stocked full of alcohol to last a millennium, definitely with help from Gillian at storing extremely fine wines for special occasions, and beer for everyday occasions.

Currently, they were both at their sixth bottle and the neither the mood nor the tension had eased up from uncomfortably awkward.

"I think your sister is hiding something. I have this weird tingly feeling in my spine, that fuzzy feeling in the back of my head that tells me she has been plotting." Roderich grumbled, tipping back another bottle.

"I think you are tipsier than you should be and well on your way to being drunk out of your wits. Still, as her husband, you should be used to her being secretive at times. She must be planning a surprise for you." replied Ludwig, his attention however was concentrated on the label of the bottle he was currently holding.

"How would you know it is a surprise for me? There is no way of predicting Gillian's behavior, nor her mind."

"Like you said, Roderich, it's that fuzzy feeling. It's called a Gil-radar. Whatever you want to call it though. It's the feeling of impending doom."

"You're drunk as I am!"

"Nein, I am merely humoring you."

"Fuck that. Cheers, to whatever my wife, my heavily pregnant wife, is plotting!"

And both men toasted to Gillian's success, even as the fuzzy feelings in the back of their heads steadily turned into a violent drumbeat pounding away at their remaining shreds of consciousness.

It was dark outside when Gillian finally returned to her brother's house. The lights were all turned off and it seemed that nobody was up and about, and that was just _wrong_. It felt so wrong Gillian knew she had to stage an awesome rescue right at this very moment. It was still seven in the evening. Ludwig never slept early. He woke early but never did he sleep _early_. Her brother worked like clockwork and she remembered every single detail of his personal habits. There was only one reason for this!

Trying to pick the lock on the door took a bit of effort since it was rather dark outside and even for all her awesomeness Gillian did not have night vision. A curse upon her brother's head for not giving her an extra key, and curse her own forgetful brain for actually forgetting to bring along one of the fucking extra keys Ludwig stupidly hides under the living room couch.

She really should have anticipated that her dear idiots would drink themselves into a stupor. Together. Heh, and they claimed she was immature and irresponsible on most days!

Once she had the door unlocked, she did her best to remain quiet as she surveyed every fucking room in the house for them.

Not in the living room. Of course not. Roderich usually felt like he owned every house he stepped in, and her brother's house was no exception. He would explore every nook and cranny if he had to.

Kitchen. Ah yes, the place where all things break loose between her husband and her brother.

Finding them in positions that should never ever be described in public, Gillian mustered up every awesome thought in her head to keep herself from bursting out loud and ruining the moment. She needed a camera. The scene before her was definitely blackmail material she could sell for thousands!

The painfully bright light that flooded the entire kitchen when she flipped the switch on did not cause both drunks to stir. They were probably too far in the dreamland drunks often ventured in to notice.

The bottles strewn everywhere in the kitchen however, was a fucking big problem.

The siren call of alcohol echoed faintly in Gillian's mind. Everything about it tempted her to reach out and sip the last drops from the nearest bottle.

Oh, but for just a taste!

The beautiful feeling of gulping down several shots sorely missed and most welcome. Just a taste! One of each would do!

From the cheapest table wine to the richest, darkest reds and light, sparkling whites; the burn of vodka in the throat and gut, the feel of gin and rum and whisky as they settled and enveloped the entire body and mind in a different kind of high; the excellent taste beer from Bavaria, the sting of absinthe; the love alcohol shared with its lover, the drinker.

Gillian broke away from her musings when Roderich stirred somewhere to her left; straddling his chair and leaning his chest on the backrest. Ludwig was still as a stone from his slouch on the kitchen counter. How he managed to keep himself atop it was a mystery she did not dare unravel. In her hand she held a half empty bottle of beer. It had called to her and she had responded.

As if seeing it all through the haze of a dream, Gillian raised the bottle to her lips, tipping it just right so she could catch the barest whiff of it. Then her stomach gave a most terrible lurch.

In her shock she dropped the bottle to rest both hands upon the swell of her belly. The sound of glass smashing to pieces on the kitchen tile nothing more than a dull thump to her ears, the thunderous beat of her heart loud and echoing in the silence that followed, the phantom feeling of a nudge from within her breaking the spell that had temporarily bewitched her senses.

"What the ever loving fuck have you done kiddo?! Are you my conscience now?" she grumbled half-heartedly as she rubbed circles on her belly. The baby had kicked her for nearly falling into temptation. The. Baby. Kicked. Her.

"You, dear one, will be awesome when you're born. Now, let's see if we can wake your unawesomely drunk dad and stop him from making out with the table."

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><p>I hope this pleases all those who hoped and prayed and PMed me to update. Now if only I can find a free week in this month...<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Sorry for the long break between chapters. This bad habit might probably continue. Personally I like this chapter because I literally wrote this on loads of caffeine during the wee hours of morning when I should have been typing up my thesis. Oh well, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Standard warnings apply. I do not own the characters and other copyrighted stuff that may be littered around this fic. Warnings for slight language, the BFT, and caps lock abuse in a poor excuse of an email.

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><p>There was a time when Francis could confidently say that the love the Bad Friends shared with the world was one of a kind and enriching. The love they had for others burned like flames, or something equally poetic, in his humble opinion.<p>

This time, Francis could confidently say that anyone who dared to fall madly in love with any one of the Bad Friends was just that: plain mad, possibly stupidly masochistic, with no common sense or self-preservation. Their love after all, could cause unfathomable happiness, and also unfathomable distress.

Take one Gillian Beilschmidt-Edelstein for example, who is currently pregnant, nearing the end of her term, nearing the end of her vows of abstinence, and possibly nearing the end of her sanity for sending off her husband on a surprise trip to Brazil.

The reason is to be explained later, perhaps never, if Gillian suddenly changes her mind about sharing it to her only best friends in the entire universe.

Today was supposed to be his day. Now it has to be shared with two bad friends. Two very bad idiot friends.

But first, he needed sleep. Precious, life-giving, rejuvenating _sleep_. Hopefully, he'd be allowed to sleep forever and be a real-life sleeping beauty and a charming knight, preferably one with bushy brows that would (also hopefully) be shaved thin, would wake him up with a kiss and stop calling him a frog.

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><p>"I have big news!" Gillian crowed, her eyes twinkling as she slammed the door shut with a careless bang.<p>

"We don't want to hear them! In fact, we only want to hear the blissful sound of _silence_." Or the rustling of bed sheets, as the only thing visible to Gillian was her friend's naked French ass, and a hint of a bright red tomato shirt in the far corner of the bed.

"But this is important! And you're both here anyway so I won't have to go through the trouble of going over to Toni's place where his tomato hellion of a boyfriend would be lying in wait."

"Whatever news you have come to share can wait later…when this pounding in my head is gone. Please stop yelling, I don't want Toni to wake up wailing. I hope he doesn't remember last night. Everything he poured out to me was ten times worth all the blackmail material I've ever built up about him over the years. And please don't mention his special tomato's name. just call him tomato. _Urgh_. I want sleep." Francis grumbled before pulling the blankets back over his head, which unfortunately still did not cover his backside.

"Oh right, I forgot you drank yourselves silly last night. Don't worry, I won't disturb you in those miserable throes of hangover you're currently experiencing!"

"Gil, _shut up_! You're loud and annoying and everything's so _bright_!" Antonio wailed from his corner, the shifting of his shirt the only sign he was still breathing even when his head was buried under a fluffy pillow.

"You shut up, you're screaming too. Fine! I'll leave you idiots be. Wallow in hung-over misery you jerks! I'm going to make lunch and eat everything in Franny's kitchen because his stuff is more awesome than the stuff I've got back home, so good fucking luck finding yourselves a decent meal later and a great deal of painkillers too."

And with one last ear-splitting shriek at her friends, Gillian stomped off and slammed the door enough to nearly knock it off its hinges.

"When I'm sober and remember all this, I'm taking my wood axe and splitting her in two." Antonio grouched into his pillow. Francis just kicked him off the bed.

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><p>When lunchtime passed by into a blissfully cool afternoon, only then did Francis took it upon himself to humor his extremely pregnant, extremely moody friend with his presence, and to eat an extremely late brunch. As for Antonio, he probably was still asleep to keep his ritual siesta hours. Ah well, who cared what Antonio did in his free hours.<p>

Gillian was wearing a dress the most garish shade of pink ever known in the history of mankind coupled with a bright yellow hair clip and flip-flops with cute chick designs. Francis wanted to poke his eyes out at the very sight of it since the dress indeed made her look like a beached whale on steroids, but since Gil was his friend and would not be pleased if he avoided eye contact altogether, he settled for glancing every now and then at the spot just above her ear.

"Exactly how far along are you? I had no idea that a pregnancy could make a woman go insane." Francis muttered as he reached across the table to pick off the last of Gillian's potatoes. His hand was slapped away the instant his hand hovered just above her plate.

"Stop eating my food! I'm not insane, I'm _awesome_. I bet no wife in the history of ever has done what I have done! It was the best surprise I came up with, you should have seen Roddy's face!" Gillian exclaimed.

"I shudder to imagine his reaction as you shipped him off on a whim. _Poof_! Just like that. Any sane husband would have divorced you the moment you stopped drinking beer. That was the surest sign you were going to be a terror." Francis replied promptly, grinning when Gillian shot him a glare.

"Then it's a good thing we're well-matched and we're both insane. And in reply to your first question, I have no idea how far along I am. Probably close enough to the due date but I stopped going to the doctor ever since I got those awesome ultrasound baby pics. That's all I need from them anyway, and of course I'll be needing them again when I finally deliver my awesome kid into the world."

Well. That sounded more like the Gillian he knew. She never really liked authority figures or people who had several letters attached after their names, or people who kept trying to tell her what to do (except for Roderich and her brother, apparently.) "You stopped just after that? Gil, seriously?"

"_Awesomely_, if I might add. I was getting tired of all those health bullshit the doctor was preaching every check-up and also the many books I'm forced into buying every single time Roderich listens to her crap advice. Her or he? I think I've been having check-ups with several doctors for a while now, I don't actually remember. They haven't been too awesome for me to remember anyway."

If Francis were to get married some time in the foreseeable future, he sure as hell would do everything to make sure his spouse and future progeny would get the best care and comfort, and he sure as hell would not think that health advice is bullshit if the lives of those he cared for are at stake. "Gil, honestly! What did you do to your husband? Please do tell me you had it all planned out and not just exiled him because he was grating on your nerves!" On second thought, there was also some very special someone who got on his nerves on a regular basis, but for the sake of love and chivalry he would never do something as drastic as what Gillian had just done.

Meal forgotten, Gillian rose and slammed both hands on the table, eyes bright with emotion. "Have you ever known me to do things recklessly?" she demanded.

When she was met with silence and a disbelieving look, Gillian caved in with a grumble and sank back to her seat.

"Fine. I had been plotting the whole thing ever since the quickening started. I noticed Roderich was beginning to get stressed over the whole pregnancy. I didn't want him to. I know he worries a lot and that even if people think or say I don't care, I _do_! I _love_ him, y'know, and I don't want him to stress out just because we're having a baby. I want him to be happy and play his crappy music all day and be free to do all the things he enjoys doing because it's fun and right!

"He doesn't need to show that he loves and supports me by coddling me so much that it gets hard for me to do my own thing. I mean, I had to sacrifice my hobbies and my habits because they weren't really good in the first place, but he didn't have to go sacrifice his because they were all good and productive and he gets to make a lot of people happy. Tell me Franny, how many people do I make happy, _really _happy with my bar-tending? I just make them _drunk_-happy and then the next day they wake up with shitty hangovers. I don't help people, and make them better, Roddy does. So I don't want him to sacrifice the good he does because of me. _I _am the bad to his good, and that's why I married _him_! Because I loved the goodness in him, and that he loved me even though I was bad news."

When Gillian was quiet for a while after her outburst, Francis looked at her, really looked, and what he saw sort of broke his heart a bit. Gillian was crying sad, silent tears that rolled down her pale cheeks and made her eyes puffy and as horribly pink as that monstrous dress. Nobody got to see Gillian as emotional as this. Not even her husband.

For as long as he knew his strong-willed friend, he had only seen her shed tears with such love and concern and pain twice. The first time was when her grandpa Fritz died. The second was when her father died. And now, she was crying for her husband. If that wasn't love hidden so deep within her stubborn, wild heart, Francis did not know what else to call it.

"I'm sure Roderich knows you love him, Gil. Who cares what the rest of the world thinks of you? You have his love and he has yours, and that love gave the both of you that little blessing growing inside you. I think you should be happy too, because like you said, it's more awesome that way."

* * *

><p>Roderich had been lost so many times he probably knew every crowded street and dark alley in Rio by now. When the entire concert tour was over the first thing he vowed to do was set free every single little yellow bird Gillian had in their house as revenge. But somewhere in some dark corner of his mind he was secretly thankful that Gillian actually thought of the surprise trip. It had been so long since he last held a concert or played music for a crowd, and he both missed and enjoyed the feeling of the lights and audience focused on him. He was back in his element and he definitely had to thank his wife for that. She knew exactly what he needed.<p>

Back at the hotel he had to call home several times with the answering machine as his only reply, and when he tried to call Ludwig, the brute had the audacity to complain about the costs of international calls before hanging up.

When he tried to call Gillian's friends, the ones who usually picked up were whoever they were sleeping with at the time and never the actual idiots of the Bad Friends. It was mildly frustrating and also a bit strange. Once, he called Bonnefoy's number and got redirected to some grumpy Brit who also yelled at him for call costs, and that if he was 'the dumb frog's current fuck toy, because if so, better be prepared to wake up cursed as a rock' among other things ranted in some posh British accent Roderich had no patience to listen to. So he hung up on that one and decided never to call Bonnefoy in the meantime. "What in the world has everyone been doing lately?"

Deciding to abandon the phone, Roderich fished out the laptop he rarely used and after fumbling a bit to connect to the hotel's WiFi, he opened his e-mail and hoped that his wife would find the time to think about checking her e-mails.

'_Gillian dearest, why have you sent me away? What have you been doing lately? How's the baby? Do I need to come back and drag you to the hospital? Please tell me you're okay. Your brother is a rude, penny-pinching fool. I need updates_.'

Roderich hit send and waited an hour for a reply. When none was forthcoming he typed another one.

'_Gil, this is your husband, Roderich, who you have lovingly sent to Brazil without giving a reason why. Thank you for organizing a concert and for sending my violin along with me, although I still miss the piano back home. I played Tchaikovsky on a baby grand earlier and it was lovely. A lot of people came to listen. Thank you._

_I would also like to remind you that I am still going to be mad at you and take revenge for not telling me you had planned this out in secret! Also, please tell your Bonnefoy to stop having adultery. I believe he has already been claimed and he hasn't realized it yet. You see, I have been threatened by his scorned lover, who thinks I am one of his whores, and I do not wish to be cursed to live the rest of my life as a rock. Please tell the owner of that lovely Spanish restaurant; I'm sorry I forgot his name, I think it was Alejandro or something, that his phone has probably been stolen by someone from the Italian mafia. I'm not sure but I heard a lot of crashing and banging and I think someone was being tortured in the background. Gil, please answer our house phone. Please stop staying over other people's places. Thank you.'_

When he finished supper and a shower, Roderich was getting anxious that there still seemed to be no reply. What was that thing kids these days used to communicate with other people over the internet? Placebook? Crumblr? He really had no idea about those and if they were effective. What did Gillian use the most? He only had an e-mail account!

Just when he was on the brink of falling asleep, his laptop screen lit up and emitted a little _pop_ sound. A reply, _finally_! Roderich rolled over the last few inches towards the bedside table and eagerly snatched up his glasses. Ah, there it was! An e-mail from his wife.

'_Hubby darling, why the hell are you e-mailing? Ever heard of IM? Ever thought of using Skype instead? You've been clogging up my inbox y'know, and I can't find the updates for the game I downloaded. Just how many e-mails must you send me?!_

_OK, to start with your FIRST or many, many stupid questions, NO! I DID NOT SEND YOU AWAY! STOP THINKING THAT I'M TRYING TO GET RID OF YOU! I gave you a surprise trip. Surprise!_

_Second, what have I been doing lately? Hmm, I've been doing awesome things as usual and it has been awesome so far and the food I'm eating is awesome by the way and I get to do a lot of awesome things to make people's lives more awesome, ok?!_

_Baby's fine. STOP WORRYING ABOUT THE BABY! STOP THINKING BAD THINGS WILL HAPPEN TO IT BECAUSE NO, RODDY, I'M AWESOME MAMA BEAR, REMEMBER?_

_Do you need to come back and drag me to a hospital? Of course you get to come back, after your concert tour, idiot! And no, I am not allowing you to drag me to a hospital. You're going to carry me in style when the time comes. But no, I don't need a hospital right now. I am AWESOME. AWESOOOOME!_

_Shut up, you hypocrite. You're the worst penny-pinching bastard I've ever known so you don't have the right to point fingers and name names at my baby bro, I think he picked up that evil habit from you. Shame on you, you ruined my brother's ability to have fun with money he earned for that very reason._

_YOU DON'T NEED UPDATES. IT WILL ONLY MAKE YOU WORRY. LIKE I SAID, EVERYTHING IS AWESOME!'_

Roderich suppressed a sigh from reading the A word over and over. _POP_! And a new message appeared on his inbox, from Gillian, and now Roderich was slightly dreading having to read the word '_awesome_' again. This must be in reply to his second e-mail then. He suddenly had the feeling that it was a mistake to send those messages. Gillian tended to rant a lot when the mood overtook her.

_'Roddy, this is your wife Gil, who is very tired from reading your second e-mail because seriously? I sent you to Brazil to have fun having weird music sex with pianos and violins and flutes and whatever else instrument you're going to play for the crowds who love your prissy music. STOP COMPLAINING BECAUSE I KNOW YOU SECRETLY ENJOY YOUR CONCERT TOUR._

_I don't know who the Russian guy with the unpronounceable Russian name is but if he makes excellent vodka, I want to meet him._

_OF COURSE LOTS OF PEOPLE LISTEN. YOU'RE A STAR. REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE AWESOME TOO._

_Of course, you're welcome to my awesomeness anytime, and that no matter how you threaten me, I still have one up over you. If you continue to threaten me, darling, I swear when you return I will never EVER suck you off in the kitchen or ride you in bed again. EVER._

_I think you're right, Roddy. Franny is technically committing adultery, but it's not my place to call him out on it. He should realize it himself, as you said. When did you become an expert on my friends?! Don't worry about being threatened by Iggy, those curses have no effect against the power of awesome! Don't worry about Franny, he's not exactly your friend, he's mine, and he's a grown man, he can sort out his relationship on his own, and we can sit back and laugh about it._

_The Spanish restaurant's owner is named Antonio, and it's okay if you don't actually remember his name. We call him Toni mostly because we also often forget his full name. Believe me it's really fucking long! His phone hasn't been stolen, idiot, the guy who probably answered your call was his boyfriend and he is not a muffin, nobody's being tortured, you most likely just heard them having sex. Wild, rough, hate sex. Mm, bet you're missing awesome sex with me. Don't worry, if you're good to mama, mama's good to you, Roddy!_

_As for you calling our house phone, I'm not answering the phone because I know its just you and it means you're being a worrywart again. Also, staying over at other people's houses is definitely more AWESOME than staying at home! Our baby needs to hear the outside world too so allow us to run wild and free!_

_Look, get some sleep Roddy, I know you're tired from all that you've done today, and you still have one more performance tomorrow before I have to see your face again. Sleep. Sleep is awesome. You're awesome. I know I don't say this much because it's embarrassing as shit when we're in public but I Love You, so sleep and dream of me fucking you right now because that's the most I can give you from such a long distance.'_

The message ended there and Roderich continued to stare blankly at his screen, absorbing the words blaring at him and the fact that Gillian had just typed _that. _Well then, that was honestly sound advice and it was in his best interest to obey. So Roderich shut the lid of his laptop, set his glasses atop it, shucked off his clothes and dove under the duvet to do exactly as Gillian had said.

He did not notice the muffled little pop of one last message before he drifted off into sexy dreamland where his wife was sexy hot and not as bloated as a watermelon, and they had a dozen or so children running around in their garden surrounded by little yellow chicks.

* * *

><p>Gillian grinned as she sent one last message before signing out.<p>

It was an attached copy of the latest ultrasound scan of their baby.

The message only read, _'Congratulations to both of us, Roddy! If you look closely, we're having an awesome baby boy!'_

* * *

><p><strong>AN**:As always, reviews and comments are appreciated! if you spot any errors please let me know, I typed this during hours when a normal person's brain should be resting. Chapter 9 is in the works, but it might take a while, so please be patient with me (as you always have) and thank you for taking time to read this story.


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